A Madness Most Discreet
by Reiku Toukijin
Summary: [Inupapa X Sessmom] In order to cease a century old war, the Inu no Taishou weds the powerful daughter of his greatest rival. He believed their union would restore peace to conquered lands. Never suspecting that she would conquer his heart.
1. Chapter One

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Chapter One:

In the darkest depths of the forest, away from the prying eyes of mortals, lay an ancient, white-barked magnolia. The uppermost branches of that tree, ancient even when the bulk of the forest trees were but saplings, creaked lightly beneath the slight weight of a young, beautiful, and deceptively fragile young woman. She scowled at the distance, her misty blue eyes squinting ever so slightly. Her attention was diverted, at least for the moment, by the low, soothing voice emanating below her.

"Amayami-hime?"

Amayami, heir to the eastern providence and future Lady of the Western Lands, did not acknowledge the address. Instead, her gaze remained fixed on the distant plains.

The tree's branches shook as the voice sighed. "I know you are angry."

Righteous indignation filled the young daiyoukai's form. She leapt to the forest floor gracefully and raked a clawed hand through her pearlescent white hair. "Angry?" she repeated slowly, to which the tree once again sighed.

"I meant no offense."

She snorted most inelegantly, and tossed back her pale locks, her fingertips pausing for a moment to absentmindedly trace the indigo moon that adorned her unlined brow. It was the symbol of her beloved family and those who had consigned her to this fate. She, a daiyoukai second only to her father, was being traded, used as an offering to appease a petty dictator and tyrant. An oppressor who violated their borders, stole what he was able to and razed the remainder. They would lose the war, her father despaired and it was best to cut their losses. And so for their people he surrendered, willingly combined his lands with the west but with one stipulation.

Amayami's visage grew cold, her eyes hardening as she glared at the tree youkai that acted as mediator for the treaty negotiations. "I am beyond angry, Bokusenou!"

The old tree remained silent, casting a weary gaze at the young woman. In a way he pitied her, but in doing so he did her a great disservice. She was a powerful and prideful being, forced into a marriage with her enemy, a youkai that was centuries her senior. She would be expected to be submissive to one who had ransacked her kingdom for more centuries than she had been alive. It would spell the ultimate defeat.

She retreated into a cool silence, the calm before the storm. Tension was a near tangible thing in the tiny grove.

"He is probably fat and ugly!"

Bokusenou chuckled, his lush leaves shaking. "I doubt that, Amayami-hime."

Amayami hmphed and spun on her heel. "Of course not," she snapped. "Raping and pillaging is a quite a bit of exercise."

"Child," Bokusenou began gently. He paused thoughtfully, unsurprised that she did not turn to face him. Amayami-hime was as obstinate as Touga-sama. He almost cringed at the thought of their children. And there would be children, powerful, stubborn offspring, which would herald a new era of peace. At least, one could hope. The old tree, wise and kind, sighed once more. If he had hands, he would have laid a comforting one on her thin shoulder. "If you are determined to be unhappy, you shall be."

"Forgive me, dear Bokusenou," she began, her tone flat and emotionless, "if I have no longing for the butcher who murdered my people by the thousands."

"Amayami--"

She silenced him with a look. "Worry not, Bokusenou." She licked her lips and tucked a lock of hair behind one pointed ear. "My course is set." She bowed slightly to the ancient tree. "My _duty_ is clear."

"And what of yourself?"

Amayami smiled slightly, but the smile held no joy. "We are but slaves to our crowns. Is that not correct, Touga-sama?"

A tall shadow separated itself from the tangling underbrush of the forest. His slightly tanned face held annoyance, if not slight surprise. That his betrothed had discovered his presence after he had gone to great length to conceal himself was beyond impressive. Touga smiled almost condescendingly at his fiancé. "How long of you been aware of my presence?"

Amayami's eyebrow arched a bit higher than its usual graceful curve. "Since this very moment." She smirked at the confused, almost pleading glances between her future husband and Bokusenou. A low chuckled spilled from her pale lips and grasped the attention of the two elder youkai. "You surprise me," she stated, her tone haughty.

She turned on her heel to face the almighty Lord of the Western Lands. This was the first moment she had, in fact, laid eyes on the daiyoukai. Despite her protestations to the contrary, she was pleased that her earlier assumption had been incorrect.

Touga lacked the delicate beauty typical of most daiyoukai, herself included. Instead, he was handsome, with strong bones and rugged features. His visage was pleasing enough, but it was his eyes, almost molten gold in their color, that took her notice. She cursed herself the instant she acknowledged those eyes. She was not supposed to be even remotely attracted to this fiend. He was a beast, a murderer, and now her keeper. Her countenance betrayed none of her inner quandary, merely remained a blank porcelain mask.

Touga's lips twitched as he folded his arms over his chest, slightly rumpling the front of his elegant wedding kimono. He would be late to his own wedding, he realized with a small amount of disdain, and the fact that his bride was still traipsing through the forest in full battle regalia reinforced the likelihood of her own tardiness.

With careful footsteps she strode to him, and although fallen leaves blanketed the forest floor, not a single sound was heard from her delicate footfalls. She stopped centimeters from him, her pale blue eyes locked with his bright gold ones. "It is unlike the daiyoukai of the West to lower himself to such menial tasks."

Bokusenou rolled his eyes skywards but kept his silence. Only a fool could miss the inherent insult in the younger daiyoukai's flat tone. Touga-sama was no fool. He was also not known for being levelheaded. Had the tree youkai not known Touga desired, above all, peace between their kingdoms, he would have intervened. Instead, as he was often wont to do, he remained silent, acting as an impartial mediator.

Touga's brows knit together in a small frown before a small, condescending smile graced his full lips. She had a horrid opinion of him, that much he understood. The little devil inside demanded he add fuel to this already smoldering fire. He inclined his head in mocking half bow. "Thrift, milady."

Almost of its own accord, his fingertips gently brushed the twin stripes gracing her flawless face. He marveled at the silken softness of her cheek and its utter paleness. She almost glowed against the darkening backdrop of the forest. He tilted his head down slightly, for she was nearly a head shorter than he, until his lips almost brushed against hers. She gave little reaction, merely stood statue still and unblinking. Her lack of reaction annoyed him, almost as much as it pleased him. "I doubt any in my service could take you alive."

Amayami snorted, her lips curling into a humorless smile. "You would do well to remember that."

He dropped his hand immediately and took a full step back. She was baiting him; the tone confirmed that notion. He had grown weary of battles, even verbal spars. That did not mean, however, that he would simply crumble to her whims. "There will come a time in which you grow tired of battle, _young _Amayami."

Once again, her dainty brow rose from its elegant arch. "It kept you amused for seven centuries," she retorted dryly, her meaning all too apparent.

Then, without a further word, the darkening forest brightened as she transformed and took to the sky. Both Touga and Bokusenou watched her departure with a slight amount of apprehension. It was apparent that while the young daiyoukai would submit to the marriage, she would remain difficult.

"You must forgive Amayami-hime," Bokusenou began tiredly, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts. "She is--"

"Beautiful," Touga offered, to which Bokusenou, if he were able, would have shaken his head in despair. For all of Touga-sama's great power, he was a tad simpleminded.

Touga continued to gaze skyward in the direction of his betrothed's departure. He was pleased to note she was traveling in a westerly direction. He exhaled pointedly, closing his eyes and reopening them slowly. "I did not realize she would be so young."

Bokusenou nodded sagely and sighed. "She will be one hundred this summer." He paused, briefly noting that his friend shifted uncomfortably. "I will grant you some advice, if you would hear it." His friend nodded slowly, a frown creasing his tanned features. "Amayami-hime is indeed young, but she is every inch a Taiyoukai. Treat her as such."

Touga bowed his head in thought, digesting the old tree's words. Amayami would never willingly submit to him, and she'd likely hold her new role as wife and future mother in resentment, especially considering her youth. She was just barely reaching adulthood, while he had passed that long ago.

It was not uncommon for large differences in age for arranged marriages. His own parents had been two centuries apart, nowhere near the difference that separated him and Amayami, who was his junior by nearly eight centuries. Added to the vast difference in age was the damning fact that he had been the aggressor in a war that had devastated her lands and caused her people to suffer. She had been raised to despise him, look upon him as her enemy.

The turmoil of his thoughts was interrupted by a rather loud snort, followed by a snuffling snore from the old tree. Touga cast a bemused glance at the now slumbering tree youkai and chuckled to himself. He likewise rose to the sky and headed westward.

-

Three hours later they were married in a lavish ceremony located within the opulent gardens of the castle of the Western Lord. Amayami was breathtaking in her wedding kimono; the cold stoicism of her visage only added to her untouchable beauty. Her vows she delivered flatly and with little enthusiasm.

After the priest had pronounced the couple married, a small coronation ceremony was performed. Or rather, would have been, had she not adamantly refused to witness Touga gain formal sovereignty over her father's lands. That they were also her lands now, along with the entire west, brought her little comfort. Instead she stormed from the reception, leaving behind a crowd of bewildered guests, well-wishers and one infuriated husband.

Her rage escalated as she stalked down the winding halls leading to her bedchambers, though her bored, almost amused expression belayed that fury. Once inside the room, filled haphazardly with her unpacked belongings, she cast a steely glare at the hidden passage adjoining her chambers with that of her new husband's. She slid the door shut behind her with an audible swoosh, almost ripping the rice paper from its fragile frame.

Amayami fisted her hands into her long white hair and fought the urge to scream. Such an emotional outburst would be beneath one of her station. And yet, she could not help but consider such an act a reasonable response given the current situation. Above all, she had the overwhelming urge to flee. But fleeing was one luxury she could not afford. For her people and for peace, she would remain. She would play the part of the wife and, eventually, mother. Her acquiescence did not mean she found joy in the prospect, or that she would make the situation particularly easy for her husband. Amayami was not a pampered noble, but rather one reared to rule and defend her lands. To act in any other facet would do her upbringing a great disservice.

With a final downtrodden sigh, the final breath of pity she would spare herself, she settled gracefully on her futon. So content was she in solitude she soon drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber.

From the doorway of his room, Touga watched her sleep, his face pensive but disapproval weighing highly in his golden depths. That she had publicly humiliated him at their coronation, a ceremony that was merely a formality, was inexcusable. It had been his intent to reprimand her, to demand her explanation, and, above all, extract his conjugal rights. Their marriage, and its attached treaty, meant nothing if it were not consummated.

As he watched, she drew her knees to her chest and curled contently around a pillow. Her wedding gown, now impossibly wrinkled, frothed around her ethereal form like a soft, billowing cloud. He felt his anger diminish as he silently he weaved through the countless crates to kneel at her bedside and remove her footwear. He tenderly brushed the pale locks from her face before pressing a light kiss to her moon-marked brow. All thoughts of enforcing his rights and punishment for her transgression fled with the contented sigh that escaped her barely parted lips.

She was beautiful, impossibly young, innocence and fragility contrasting with the deadly grace flashing across her moon pale features. Gently he stroked the delicate curve of her jaw while lost in thought, half wondering if all her skin was as soft. He was uncertain how to make this transition easier for her, for either of them. Centuries of bitter warfare had left their toll and would not be easy to forgive, nor would they ever be completely forgotten.

He drew back slowly as she stirred in her sleep. She blinked bleary, sleep-heavy eyes at his kneeling form. A delicate frown creased her brows and the barest amount of panic settled in her pale blue eyes. She all but scrambled into an upright position and gathered the blankets protectively to her still clothed chest. She swallowed hard, but otherwise kept her composure. "What are you doing?"

A weary, nigh despondent sigh escaped his lips as he tiredly loosened his ponytail so that his long hair flowed over his broad shoulders and down his back. "Contemplating."

Her lips quirked into a small smirk and her eyes glimmered with mischief. No doubt her next remark would be of a sardonic note. Instead, her comment was of a different nature. "I prefer your hair up."

Surprise colored the Western Lord's features for a moment. He took her smaller, clawed hand in his and kissed her knuckles. "Then I will wear it as such from this moment forward."

She huffed, her lips twitching in annoyance as she looked away. "You mock me."

"No."

He cupped her cheek, gently tilting her face towards his, and pressed a light kiss to her lips. Her breath hitched in her throat and her eyes widened, but otherwise she made no response to the lips nipping gently at hers.

Amayami was not one to give in to lesser emotions. True, she mourned for her people, was outraged at her father's surrender. Never had she been so utterly terrified. Not as she was at this moment, faced with the prospect of consummating her marriage. That Touga was handsome mattered little when matched with the realty that he was her former enemy, a creature she had been reared to despise since birth, and a relative stranger. This was her duty, her fate, and in reality, despite her protests and her rages, she was merely a spoil of war. When he lifted her gently from her futon, she stiffened and fisted her hands into his long sleeves in protest.

"Amayami," he whispered tenderly, his eyes holding not ardor, but compassion. "You are an innocent."

She nodded dumbly, not bothering to deny the truth. Before her husband, no man had ever embraced her, save her father. He carried her slowly through the hidden door and placed her gently on his bed. Afterwards he vanished, only to return moments later with a long sleeping gown. After placing the gown in her lap, he once again kneeled at her feet. "I am uncertain how to make this easier for you."

Amayami's eyes fluttered shut, her cheeks flushing crimson as she looked away from his stare. She clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth, and returned her gaze to his. "I am not a trophy."

"You are my wife," he replied sternly before covering her mouth with his.

She wrenched her face from his, her claws digging into his long sleeves. "And you are my husband."

Angrily she leapt to her feet and stalked from his chambers into her own, almost daring him to follow. He was a conqueror, and thus gained much of his territory and wealth by the calculated invasion of a superior force. And yet despite his power, which he rapidly began doubting in his wife's presence, he feared the consequences of breaching the borders of that room. This was not a battle he would win by force.


	2. Chapter Two

Once the Western Hold might have overwhelmed Amayami, but now she strode its dim halls as sovereign. Ironically, her position was as precarious as her month long marriage for she was as unpopular here in the West as Touga was in the East.

In the weeks following her marriage she had fully assumed her duties as Lady and joint sovereign of the Western Lands. Amayami asserted herself sharply in matters of diplomacy, specifically the restitution and pacification of the war torn East. What Touga had decimated he was now obligated to restore and that included her father's lands. And although those lands had been formally annexed into the West, forever in her heart and the minds of her people would they remain independent.

In courtly matters the young daiyoukai was a formidable presence, one who spoke rarely and never to excess. She supported her lord publicly, advised him privately, and should the need arise, as it often did, reprimanded him harshly. In all facets, even those beyond the political scope, she demanded equal voice. A daiyoukai could accept no less.

At the clatter of steel upon steel Amayami froze, wary as a hunted creature. She hated the feeling of fear, yet as of late it had become her bedfellow. Heart hammering, she followed the discordant sound to the veranda where a dozen or more servants were avidly watching a confrontation within the courtyard. A swift glance told her that her husband and his new recruits were at sword practice.

"Have you not something to do?" she hissed, dismayed to see so many servants milling about. Relief settled within her as they made hasty apologies and sulked away.

The sound of swords resonated harshly as Amayami stepped into the confines veranda. She could not help but admire Touga's skill even if she deplored his bloodthirsty nature.

Swords clashed again, setting Amayami's nerves on edge. One of the soldiers uttered a guttural cry and fell to his knees. At the last moment, Touga turned his sword, striking the man with the flat of his blade. The soldier dropped like a stone, sprawling on the ground and silence descended upon the courtyard.

Sweat glistened on Touga's bare chest, his muscles rippling as he stood ready to strike. He was magnificent in an undeniably dangerous manner. Something tightened deep within her as ragged breathing echoed in her ears. With a sort of bitterness, she recognized the sensation. And it was not something she should feel for the likes him. Amayami snarled at the realization that the breaths she heard were none other than hers.

Moistening her dry mouth, she considered continuing her patrol of the stronghold grounds, but was too entranced to move.

Touga stood over the fallen soldier, his lips twisted in contempt. The recruits glared back at him, bristling at what seemed less an accident and more an attack on one of their number. They were wolf youkai, and like others of their kind, existed within an intensely loyal brotherhood. Its bonds were greater than any allegiance toward the Inu no Taishou.

After a moment, the guard captain deliberately lowered his weapon and turned his back to Touga. Glaring, he ordered the rest of the men to follow suit.

Touga gave a disgusted shrug, and dismissed them with a word. As he strode away, Amayami could not tell if he were furious at the wolves or himself.

Uncertain to what she had just witnessed, Amayami left the veranda and continued her walk of the stronghold's grounds. Much to her delight, she soon found herself within the gardens.

Strolling the wood paved path, she nodded pleasantly at the passing servants. Again she was reminded of just how many staff Touga seemed to keep. They were stifling, intrusive, and their great numbers only added to her discomfort. She paused, bending to pluck a sprig of jasmine from its fragile vine. She sniffed the flower delicately, stifling a sneeze as its fragrant pollen tickled her dainty nose.

An unfamiliar presence tugged at her senses, causing her to stiffen. Unperturbed, she turned on her heel, acknowledging whomever it was that seemed to demand her attention. Sniffing her flower in feigned disinterest, she appraised the man before her.

He was tall and slender, almost willowy, with dark skin and flaxen hair. Striking and utterly compelling was the smile he flashed, a mere quirk of lips was wicked. The youkai, a dragon as her senses told her, bowed in a low, courtly fashion.

"Milady."

Amayami's passive expression grew stony, her brow rising marginally from its usual graceful arch. Despite his attention to decorum, there was something most unfavorable about this dragon. Eying him warily, she took one last sniff of her flower before tucking it carefully in her sash. "And you are?" Her tone was cold, bordering on rudeness.

Seemingly unbothered, the stranger's smile brightened as he straightened. He foppishly clasped his hands to his chest.

"Forgive my rudeness, Milady. I am-"

"Ryuukossei," Touga finished as he shouldered into a kosode.

Amayami frowned at his annoyed tone, but was moderately pleased he saw fit to dress himself.

Ryuukossei chuckled at the distrust in Touga's voice, his strangely hued eyes brightening to crimson. "Yes, quite right." He bowed again. "My gratitude, Touga-sama. What would we ever do without each other?"

The dragon smirked as Touga moved almost casually to stand protectively before his bride. The gesture was not lost on Ryuukossei. He mentally noted the reaction; it was something, if need be, to exploit at a later date. He was smugly satisfied in the realization that at long last, his old friend had a weakness; a vulnerability formed from soft, moon pale flesh and long, graceful limbs.__

Ryuukossei's eyes roamed over Amayami from head to toe, lingering on her more feminine attributes. At first glance she appeared delicate, breakable, but the youki rolling off her willowy frame belied that illusion. Wars were fought over females such as Amayami-hime. And in his opinion, it would well be worth the effort.

"Milady, since my introduction is out of the way, would it be presumptuous of me to request yours?" Ryuukossei's tone was low, his gaze too intimate to be construed as polite.

Amayami spared Ryuukossei a bored, almost amused glance before stepping from behind her husband. "That you are ill informed of my identity suggests that you are either beneath my notice socially, or that your powers of deduction are lacking."

Her white-blue eyes flicked toward Touga, who stifled a laugh behind his fist. Without further word she strode from the garden. Feeling both males' eyes still upon her, she paused, glancing over her shoulder at her husband. "I will be in the private library. You will join me within the hour."

Touga and Ryuukossei watched, each envious in their own right, as she strolled gracefully down a garden path and out of sight. Touga waited until it was a certainty she was beyond hearing distance to address his visitor. "You were told never to come here."

His tone was low, cordial, but the underlying displeasure was evident. Ryuukossei knew he was treading dangerous ground. However, he would have what was owed to him, one way or another.

"Hmm, yes," Ryuukossei purred. "I simply wished to congratulate you on your victory and…" He smiled knowingly. His voice dropped to a low suggestive tone. "Your marriage."

Touga huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. In his long life there were many things in which he regretted, but none so greatly as enlisting Ryuukossei's aid. They had initially had a comfortable arrangement, in which Ryuukossei acted as a simple mercenary. Once the survival of the Western Lands, as well as Touga's own, began to depend on the dragon's support, his demand for compensation escalated.

"It is most distressing," Ryuukossei complained in mock indignation.

Touga closed his eyes, his clawed hand pinching his nose as if to ward off a headache. He needed not ask the meaning of the dragon's words.

"Did you know there are those who simply do not appreciate those paramount to their elevation in power?" The dragon's countenance grew grave, his eyes hardening. "Fortunate for myself, you are more honorable than most."

"You have been paid, Ryuukossei," Touga stated firmly. "Leave before I lose patience."

"Hmm. Indeed I have," Ryuukossei once again purred, ignoring the latter half of his friend's statement. "To which I'm grateful," he added quickly in a weak attempt to defuse the inu daiyoukai's wrath, which was becoming tangible as the minutes passed. "Although, after seeing your newest-" his eyes lowered, his voice sharpening to a hiss- "acquisition..."

Touga snarled, his patience finally exhausted, and leapt at Ryuukossei. A moment later, in a flash of white and blue, Ryuukossei was pinned to a nearby tree by his throat.

"Touch her," Touga hissed, his eyes reddening, "and I will kill you."

"So possessive, so protective and so very quickly." Ryuukossei smiled tauntingly, ignoring Touga's warning growl. "Not that I blame you, really. She is delectable," he said, his last words meaningful, his eyes swimming with lust. "Such pretty white skin." He suddenly looked pensive, as if realizing something of great import. "Hmm… odd."

"What?" Touga spat, loosening his hold and stepping slowly from Ryuukossei. Inwardly he cursed himself for acting on his baser emotions. He, like Ryuukossei, desired Amayami, a fact that stoked his protective instincts. She was his by law but not in practice, a situation that demanded rectification.

"Why," Ryuukossei replied, his hand clasped over his heart in mock shock. He released a slight surge of youki. He knew well enough his next words were likely to incite the daiyoukai to violence. "You have been married the better part of a month and yet barely a whiff of your scent clings to her lovely flesh."

In all predictability Touga snarled, his golden eyes bleeding crimson. Uneasy ally or no, the urge to slaughter the dragon suddenly escalated.

"But worry not," Ryuukossei appeased with a light chuckle as he rose to the air. "I will explore none of your acquired territories before you, dear friend."

Touga glared as Ryuukossei faded away into a speck in the distance. Finally he turned his gaze away from the sky, stalking down the garden path. As he walked he pondered his reaction to the dragon's barbs.

He knew next to nothing about Amayami, but nevertheless he was overprotective of the young daiyoukai. It could have been her youth, as she had just barely entered adulthood. There were also other reasons: her deceptive frailty, her strength, her naivety. Perhaps, in time, his marriage to Amayami would be a fruitful arrangement. By standards of nobility she was an excellent match. More than his equal socially, economically, and despite her youth, she was frighteningly powerful.

Had fate played differently, he would have vied with other lords for her hand. As it was, courtship had been denied to them, likely not for the better. Tantamount to any other reason was the simple desire for his marriage to succeed. He desired children and a family to call his own. And above all, he wanted those things in a land blanketed with peace.

Two more turns down strangely empty corridors and he was in his private library. Amayami sat at one of the numerous low tables, apparently engrossed in the estate records. She looked up briefly, sparing him a tiny nod before her eyes flicked to a pile of brightly hued cushions to her right. Curiously, the servants that generally attended the area were also absent.

"I value solitude," Amayami answered, as if reading his thoughts.

Touga nodded as he slowly lowered himself to the cushions, looking pointedly at the scroll she was reading. Amayami released the scroll, giving it a cryptic glare as it snapped shut and rolled to the edge of the table. "It has come to my attention there are twice and four too numerous servants in our service."

His lips thinned into a small frown. He was used to hardships of the battlefield, but when at home, when his mood allowed, he demanded luxuries. The sheer number of servants had more than tripled over the last few decades. Perhaps a little thinning out was in order. It would benefit the estate finances, and such a concession would likely please his wife. He nodded in agreement. "We could release a few if it would increase your comfort levels."

"A few and four," she corrected, tapping her claws against the scroll.

He frowned, baffled, annoyed slightly by the amusement in her eyes. "And four?" he asked dumbly.

Her eyebrow rose a fraction of a centimeter from its usual elegant arch. "Your concubines," she explained dryly. "Now that you are married, it would be most prudent to have them dismissed."

His frown deepened. "No."

Amayami's brows shot up to her hairline before her face smoothed to calm, impassive lines. "No?" she repeated incredulously.

Touga nodded slowly in agreement. Countless lords, his father included, kept concubines; he was no different. What did it matter to her? They had an agreement, a treaty that bound them. Amayami was Lady of the Western lands and there was nothing, aside from her death, that could change that fact.

Amayami arched an almost satisfied brow as she rose to her feet. "Then I suppose it is settled."

Touga too rose, confused as to why she had acquiesced so easily. She smiled, a cold twisting of the lips. In his long lifetime he had face countless youkai on the battlefield, squared off against minor deities, and never once had he wavered. Yet, that icy smirk required every ounce of his resolve not to flinch.

"Inu no taishou," she addressed coolly, bowing. There was a subtle insult in the honorific title, one that was not lost on Touga. "I bid you farewell."

She strode out of the room with barely a backward glance. He pursued with an expedience he knew not he possessed.

"You risk dishonor."

"I would rather accept dishonor of my own choosing than be dishonored nightly by an unfaithful husband," she retorted as she strode down the long winding halls in the direction of their adjoining chambers.

"It is my right," he growled out slowly, in a dangerous tone that sent many lesser youkai fleeing. Unfortunately, Amayami was neither lesser nor easily frightened.

"Undoubtedly," she agreed with an elegant shrug. "I sugges-"

Touga pulled her to him forcibly, wincing as her claws dug into his flesh reflexively. She stiffened as his mouth slanted over hers. Ignoring the peculiar burning of tiny puncture wounds, his tongue licked roughly at her bottom lip, demanding entrance.

He continued to kiss her, nipping gently at her lips. She tensed, and then struck his chest, pushing him away. Exasperated, frustrated and disappointed, he pulled his lips from hers, but did not fully release her. Amayami's face held a peculiar expression, one with soft eyes and slightly swollen lips.

Shaking her head, she breathed a soft sigh as she wove her fingers through the length of his silver hair. Her claws scraped against the fastener that bound his ponytail. Smiling faintly, she lifted her chin, brushing her lips against his with a tentativeness characterized by inexperience. Believing he had won, Touga's arms moved around her, one hand pressing against the small of her back, urging her upwards into his kiss. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth before carefully grazing its plumpness with his fangs.

She warmed against him, her hesitation replaced with a sort of eagerness. Something had changed between them and neither was uncertain as to what. She pulled away sharply, her mouth inches from his.

"Send them away."

Angry, he falsely assumed her actions were a subtle way of manipulation. He was Lord of the Western Lands and he would not be handled by another. Touga's features darkened, his jaw clenching. "Absolutely not."

Pale eyes hardened as she wrenched out of his hold with a strength that seemed impossible. "A servant will be sent to retrieve my belongings within a day."

"You will not leave."

Amayami's eyes widened marginally, and her countenance grew colder. "Because I am yours?" she asked sardonically, her breath seductively warm on his throat.

"You belong to me," he acknowledged.

Her lips made a sarcastic "oh," her elegant brows rising slightly as she pulled away. "I belong to no one," she retorted flatly, "least of all you."

Touga breathed, his nostrils flaring, Ryuukossei's earlier barbs stinging at his pride. "They perform the duties you have yet to."

If possible, Amayami grew paler, her lids fluttering nervously as she hugged herself tightly. Inconceivably her unwavering confidence had crumbled with the utterance of a single phrase. She turned from him, withdrawing; her shoulders set it firm lines. Touga hissed inwardly, suddenly wishing he could retract his words. "Amayami," he whispered, tenderly encircling his arms around her slender waist.

"Your marriage, and its attached treaty, or your whores," she stated firmly, suddenly regaining her lost composure. She spun on her heel and leveled an icy gaze. "Choose wisely."

Touga rubbed his temples with his thumbs. If Amayami's façade held true, she proved utterly unaffected by their too brief encounter. Perhaps she was too cold, too detached from the baser emotions. He suspected her resentment of him and her situation, coupled with her unyielding pride, was also at fault. Despite his best intentions, she viewed him as the enemy. He was not, however, without optimism, for despite that loathing, that resentment, in a brief shining moment all had been abandoned for ardor.

"Who is Ryuukossei?"

Touga breathed, relieved the subject of his paramours had been subverted, at least for the moment. "He is the sovereign of the Death Lands."

"I do not care," she intoned lowly. "I wish to know why he believes you are in his debt."

"You were eavesdropping." It was a statement rather than a question, his tone righteously indignant.

"How vulgar," she chastised as she strode into her room, her husband hot on her heels. Truthfully she had heard very little of the conversation, but enough to pique her curiosity. She smirked and stepped behind her dressing screen. "I prefer the term reconnaissance."

Touga snorted, leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms over his chest. If given the choice, he would rather argue about his paramours than discuss his relationship with Ryuukossei. Less than stealthily, he redirected their discussion to the former. "The other lords traditionally kept concubines."

Unnoticed by Touga, Amayami's eyes rolled skyward. "True," she agreed as she peeked from behind the rice paper screen. She frowned at the glimmer of hope in her husband's golden eyes. "However, your situation differs."

Touga's eyes widened, very interested in her words. "How so?"

She tapped her chin twice in rapid succession, nodding slightly, and smiled. "The other lords," she continued with a wave of her hand, "are not married to myself."

Her words struck a chord within him, causing his eyes to gleam in a predatory light. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Instinctively she countered with a step back, her narrowed eyes upon his. He took another step forward and again she stepped back until she felt herself against a wall. While her heart beat furiously, his arms fell to either side of her. He did not touch her. He simply leaned forward, dropping his lips to hers.

"Trust me," he whispered into her lips. "Do not be afraid."

The softly spoken command baffled Amayami, but she made no move to pull away. His hands slid down the wall to rest on her shoulders. He studied her lazily, his eyes lingering on her lips.

"I am not afraid," she contradicted, her chin lifting slightly, her voice haughty and strong.

The moment her words escaped her lips he kissed her, brushing dozens of feathery kisses upon her cheeks before trailing down to her pointed chin. His lips traced along her cheekbones, the slim column of her throat, his tongue curling around the delicate point of one ear. Finally, at her insistence, he returned to her lips where their kisses became deeper, harder and more demanding. Slowly, almost too carefully, he slid the shoulders of her uchikake down until it pooled around her slender waist.

His lips never leaving hers, he smoothed his palm up her body, starting at her hip and sliding it across her stomach, her ribs. Carefully his clawed hand cupped her breast. Amayami made a soft sound, almost a purring gasp, in her throat, her eyes fluttering closed in surprise and pleasure as her back arched into the touch.

"Touga," she breathed as he kissed hot, licking kisses down the length of her throat. The fingertips of his free hand slowly worked their way into her under-kimono, his thumb massaging the sleek muscles of her abdomen.

"Hn," he all but grunted. His senses were full of her. The softness of her lips, the shy, feathery touches of her hands, and the slightly floral perfume she wore. It was a scent he had smelt before, but at the moment could not place.

"Stop," she commanded sharply, breathlessly. When he did not release her, instead growing more fervent, she shoved him coldly away. "I said stop!"

Her breathing was shallow, rapid, as she took a side step, struggling to straighten her clothing. Shame nearly overwhelmed her as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The entirety of her life was about control. She would not lose it now, not to one she barely knew.

Touga glared at her in anger mixed with bewilderment. He had thought he had gained a rapport with her. It seemed, among other things, that he had been mistaken.

"Amayami."

She reached for her sword, sliding it within the billowing fabric of her sash. "I have said all I tend to say on this matter." Amayami paused at the threshold of the sliding door, sparing a glance at Touga over her shoulder. "I trust you will use your best judgment."

Without further word she stalked from her room. Once she had rounded the corner she paused to lean heavily against the wall. Her hand trembled as she tentatively touched her lips. It was inconceivable that she had enjoyed his kisses or, for a brief instant before reason had reclaimed her, wished they could go on forever.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway; her husband was approaching. Pushing herself from the wall, she ran down the hall in the opposite direction. Fleeing the castle and her undoubtedly furious husband. But nothing could chase the turmoil from her soul. One matter was a certainty. She would rather die than submit to an enemy.


	3. Chapter Three

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Uchikake: A bright and colorful kimono worn elusively by ladies of warrior or noble families. They are crafted from silk and silk brocade and are richly embroidered. In colder weather, it would be tied half-open over three more layers of kimono.

****

Inu no taishou: Leader of dogs. This is a title, not a name. However, when Amayami uses this honorific title, it is generally to mock her husband.

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Sashinuki: (also called _nu-bakama_) are the large trousers gathered at the ankle. This is typical warrior grab. These are pants worn by Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha in the series. AKA: MC Hammer pants

-

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Chapter Three:

Thin fingers of scarlet, whispers of indigo and the barest blush of pink caressed the sky as the sun made its slow, sleepy descent from the heavens. Amayami silently padded through a charred and blackened landscape, her moon pale fur stained copper by the sunset. Massive, soot blackened paws stepped carefully over razed buildings that jutted from the ground like misplaced teeth in a shattered skull. Balmy breezes bearing the hint of rain ruffled her pale fur and flung stinging dust into her dark water eyes. They narrowed reflexively, massive shoulders hunching as her head lowered.

This place had been her father's last stand, though she dare not say defeat. She had fought valiantly at his side. Blood, which threatened to remain indefinitely, stained her claws as together they mercilessly cut a swath through the enemy legion. Although their losses had been great the tide of battle had tipped in their favor. That is, until a single mishap forever altered her fate.

Secure in her ability, she had pressed onward, unaware her path strayed from her father's. Inexperience proved to be her downfall as she was outflanked and led into a deadly trap. Within moments she had been horridly wounded, her sleek fur gouged by claw, blade, and fang as she was dragged to the earth. Blackness followed her father's outraged, terrified roar. In one terrifying instant he believed his sole child had been slain.

Two weeks later, despite his slew of recent victories, her father offered a formal letter of surrender. Amayami had been furious, bewildered, and righteously indignant. Regardless of her displeasure he maintained a simple truth. The Western Lord would not cease; never yield, not until every member of his great dynasty had been eradicated.

Thus he surrendered, relinquished his title, his land, but never his dignity. All things save one. But it was she who suffered, who sacrificed for that surrender. In that one fell swoop she ceased existing as Amayami heir apparent to the Eastern Lands and became bride to a butcher and eventual mother to his ill begotten spawn. Her youth, freedom and very identity eroded into decay, plucked before flowering. Never would she be content to simply be wife and mother. Such was not a fitting fate for one reared to raise an empire.

Here in this desolate place, the aftermath of that fateful battle, her thoughts swam through the sea of memory. Futilely she sought solace amongst the blood soaked soil and shattered ruins. There was none to be offered. No condolences were granted and no peace for her weary mind. Still, she could not bring herself to despair. Her people, those of East and West, needed her. She was their sovereign, their lady, bound by a duty that came before her personal concerns. Her father had taught her well.

Shame pricked at her for the thousandth time since she had taken leave of the castle. Simultaneously her pride clashed with the shame welling within her heart. She had not been a proper wife, a situation that demanded rectification. Amayami swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She did not wish to allow Touga to touch her. She knew she must and would, but not before he agreed to her terms.

Instinctively she tensed and sniffed the air. Another youkai, one she recognized, was quickly approaching. Amayami rose to her full height, barely half the size she would attain in her lifetime, and trotted to even ground. There her canine form shimmered; fur melted into scarlet silk and pale flesh. Cobalt eyes paled to white blue in a face once feral, as pearlescent hair streamed behind her, flowing to her ankles. She steeled herself for a decidedly unpleasant confrontation. For the moment she was willing to lend ear to her husband's demands.

The wind snagged at her clothing and her long hair as heavy-laden clouds shed their burdens to the shattered ground. Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the landscape in arcs of silver. Devoid of color, the desolation stood stark against the tremulous horizon. For a too brief instant it was almost pretty. A peal of thunder broke across the shattered field, deafening in its intensity. In its wake, as if a manifestation of the weeping heavens, Touga stood in all his rain-drenched glory.

If his sudden appearance unnerved her, she gave no indication. Instead she remained impassive, statue still, as the rain beat mercilessly upon her willowy frame. Moments ticked by almost tangibly as neither spoke. His jaw clenched, teeth clashing together almost audibly as a chaotic array of emotions pelted him. Bewilderment, relief, and anger slashed through him, biting at his pride; he was torn between ascertaining her well being and throttling her.

"Amayami," he addressed curtly. He rubbed one hand against his temple; the other he extended to her. "Let us return home."

Her dainty brow crept up marginally as she stared at the outstretched hand. Surely he did not believe she would return simply because he bade her? Amayami brushed past him silently. She strode toward the skeleton of a burnt hut, uncaring if he followed or not. Ducking her head, she entered, finding its tattered roof ample enough to slow the driving rain. Lowering her eyes to slits, she leaned against the driest wall. A moment passed before the shuffle of heavy footsteps echoed in her ears.

"I presume by your presence you have considered my request."

Her tone was firm but pleasant, spoken marginally lower than her usual timbre. Touga considered for a moment as he busied himself with brushing the moisture from his cheeks. He spared her a hard look as he idly wrung the raindrops from the pelts flowing down his back. "I have."

Task complete, he paused, assessing her reaction. Vague curiosity tugged at the corners of her eyes, but otherwise her expression was calm, slightly amused, and otherwise unreadable. There was an expectant 'and' in the air, though neither would give it voice.

His heart insisted she was too young, that she had been understandably overwhelmed. Perhaps the fault lay within him, for he had been unreasonably demanding too quickly. Resentment pitted in his stomach as he ruthlessly brushed those feelings aside. Until Amayami, no one had dared deny him. She was his wife, his property, and therefore had no right. He took a single half-step forward, prompting her to push herself from the wall.

He brushed the back of his fingertips along her cheek, tracing the twin stripes there, and then gently delved his fingers in her hair. Slender clawed hands, still slightly blackened from soot, pressed preventively against his armored chest. His hand tangled into her hair as his lips brushed chastely against hers. She stiffened; a protest died on her lips. Then, without warning, he fisted his hand in her long hair and twisted as he pulled her forward.

"You will rut with me this evening."

Amayami blinked. For a moment she looked as surprised as he had ever seen her. Then the surprise faded, replaced by blazing eyes smoldering in a stony visage. He twisted her hair tighter, harsh enough that any other person, male or female, would have cried out.

"I could have taken you the moment that damnable treaty was signed," he hissed into her impassive face. Ruthlessly he twisted its silken length of her hair, demanding she acquiesce.

A sigh escaped Amayami's lips and her expression grew bored. As predicted, their little tête-à-tête had taken a most unpleasant turn. She half listened to his tirade, her anger escalating with every twist of her lovely tresses and every demand he bellowed into her pale face. She withdrew further, her visage a porcelain mask, refusing to grant him the satisfaction he craved. His threats meant little, his ultimatums even less. Patience exhausted, she elegantly flicked her wrist.

"I am lord and you will-"

Glowing claws lashed out lazily toward the side of his face. Touga's hand shot out instinctively, grasping her wrist in a crushing grip. He jerked her hand forward, level with his gaze. His reaction proved to be his undoing, for poison she had meant to direct elsewhere erupted from her needle-sharp talons. In his surprise he gasped, a silent hiss of air, inhaling the deadly fumes of a corrosive poison. His chest burned as violent coughs wracked his body. Blood and tissue spewed past cracked and bleeding lips. He was drowning, literally choking on his blood. He flung her from him, pawing at his face as a wounded beast would.

Amayami stumbled back with a curse. A thread of guilt wove through her before it was ruthlessly crushed. He had no right to manhandle or disrespect her as he had. It had not been her intention to kill or even wound, merely to exhibit that she too was a power with which to be reckoned. However, she had been careless. Touga would have been instantly slain had he been a lesser youkai, and even as it were, the pain was horrible.

He glared at her blindly, blood and ichor leaking from torn eyelids like incardinine tears. He, who in a long, bloody lifetime had suffered innumerable injuries, found than none matched these in their excruciating sting. Had he been alone, he would have gouged out the damaged tissue, rending it from bone. At least that agony would have been by his hand.

He blinked hard, excess poison leaking from the corners of his eyes. It dribbled down his cheeks, melting the tanned flesh as if it were beeswax. Golden eyes opened slowly, their molten depths rimmed with blazing scarlet. Carmine flowed over gold as he silently drew his sword.

He lunged for her, lightning reflecting off his sword as its razor edge sang through the air. Half-blind and slowed by the venom, he missed her, though just narrowly. Amayami leapt back and drew her sword in one fluid motion. She blocked his second attack easily, the power of his strike vibrating down the length of her arm. He meant to kill her.

There was no doubt in her power, but it was one barely bosomed. Adolescent that she was, she was sorely outmatched when compared to Touga with his matured power and battle hardened experience. His wounds, however, granted her a marginal advantage. Even as it was, she would be hard pressed to defeat him. If she were to be slain, then at the very least she would speak her peace.

"I have come to an epiphany."

Her tone was calm, a complete contrast to the vicious upward slash that followed. Touga snorted as he parried the blow, their weapons locking together in terrible clatter of steel. He slashed at her violently, forcing her to take up the defensive. Her blade sailed unexpectedly through the air at an incredible speed. He sidestepped, unwilling to give much credence to what he knew was a less skilled opponent. He remained wary, though, for many a powerful being had been felled by decidedly weaker adversaries.

Holding his blade in a single-handed grip, he slashed at Amayami, who barely managed to parry the blow. She snarled at the blade vibrating inches from her face. Amayami leapt back, but not quickly enough. Touga's free hand shot out, catching her by the throat. He gripped her throat, his claws digging into the tender flesh, her blood oozing over his claws. He lifted her up, her booted feet dangling inches from the floor. Her sword fell to the ground with a clatter as her hands grasped the hand choking her, her claws sinking bone deep into his leather clad wrists.

She writhed and bucked in his hold, her hands clawing desperately at the vice-like grip at her throat. He shook her like an insolent pup and then angrily flung her to the hut's broken floor. Then, decorum abandoned, he viciously kicked her.

Despite her determination, a pained whimper wrung itself from her throat as the air was forced from her lungs. Pain lanced through her side as she took a desperate breath. Her chest felt pinched, her lungs burned and her vision grew spotty. It was difficult to breathe. If her ribs were not broken they were, at the very least, bruised. She staggered to her feet, sword held loosely in one hand. Touga struck her again, a vicious backhand that sent her scuttling across the broken floor to land in a less than elegant heap on the sodden ground.

Rain flowed in torrents off the thatched roof, forming a miniature veil of water between them. Touga paused before the flood, his sword poised and ready. If he felt remorse for striking her, he gave no indication. "Are you prepared to be reasonable?"

Cold, cruel laughter rattled from her throat as she lurched to her feet. Despite her injuries, filth-soaked clothes and matted hair, she miraculously retained the steely composure that made her utterly enticing. Ignoring a stab of pain, she wiped the back of her hand against her mouth. She was slightly startled to see a smear of crimson. A tremor ran through her as she slid, automatically, into a defensive stance. The battle had ceased too quickly for either to be satisfied.

"Inu no taishou," she sneered, the honorific title a curse. "You have, beyond the shadow of a doubt, confirmed the validity of my conjecture."

Touga bit back a grimace as he once again swallowed his anger. It seemed her impudence knew no bounds. He had won the battle, but as he gazed in eyes smug with satisfaction, his assessment wavered. Shame bit at him mercilessly.

Long had he professed to be a reasonable man, and reasonable men did not beat their wives. Furthermore, he was no mere man, but a daiyoukai, and thus such lapses were inexcusable. Eyeing her critically, he slowly lowered his blade.

"Explain."

An eyebrow rose slightly from its elegant arch as she hmphed. She sighed, eyes hardening. "Despite all your great power you are and shall forever remain pathetically ordinary."

"Ordinary," he drew out slowly as he sheathed his sword. Damage dealt by his claws was easier to control. It was her acknowledgement of his dominance he sought, not her demise.

"Pathetically so," Amayami acceded dryly. "This," she gestured to the desolation, "this is the extent of your power. One who conquers what he has not earned and destroys what he cannot seize shall never know true strength."

Touga digested her words, words that despite their inherent insult were carefully measured, and on the outskirts of her usual succinctness. He considered them, rolled them around in his mind until he came to his conclusion. "It is the way of things, Amayami."

Gingerly his hand touched his still wounded face. His eyes felt sticky as if covered in cobwebs, their lids swollen and heavy, and fluid, though greatly stanched, continued to leak from melted tissues. His nose and throat itched painfully, the damaged tissue yearning to become whole once more. His still blurred vision had begun to clear, though not rapidly.

Her toxin was potent, more so than any he had encountered. Had she truly intended him harm, his injuries would have been far more severe. In fact, he was uncertain he would have survived. It was that realization that stayed his hand. He watched her as he passed through the tiny waterfall.

"I have read the reports and heard rumors of your exploits during the war," he began thoughtfully, his tone mocking. "You have decimated entire armies. You have routed troops and slaughtered them as they fled." He stared long at her, frowning at the mottled bruise that marred one alabaster cheek. Shadows clung beneath eyes peering from a face far too pale. He had injured her worse than either cared to admit. "You cannot claim to be innocent."

"I do not," she conceded. "However," she continued wryly. Blood, sticky and warm, seeped from where his claws had scored her throat. The wounds were not large, but they were deep and surrounded by growing bruises. They were superficial for one of her power; already she could feel the bleeding slowing to a trickle.

Her ribs however, were more worrisome. Her side felt spongy, her lungs burned, and her ribs cracked in protest with every breath she took. Were it not for her hard-earned discipline it was doubtful she could have remained standing. Her lips thinned, her eyes closed briefly, but there was not a hint of weakness when she finished her statement. "We are not discussing my deeds. We are discussing yours."

If Touga had been even a fraction less dignified, he would have rolled his eyes. Her words were an exact echo of those she had spoken this morning, before he had kissed her, held her lithe body against his as she returned his ardor with her own. The passion had been short lived, for she had bolted and eluded him for the majority of the day. Then he'd found her, scented her, only because she'd allowed him. Now, as the sun fully descended from the sky, they stood beaten, battered, and bloody, and ironically repeating the partial conversation that led them down this path in the first place.

As the rains fell icy and unforgiving, Touga prayed this was not some portent of events to come. Eternity would linger if he were bound to a woman who loathed him.

"I agree," Amayami murmured as she sheathed her sword. Her voice was weary, slightly pained as if the threads of her control were unraveling. Touga frowned and pursed his lips, confused by the sudden concurrence.

She exhaled, ignored the sharp pain in her chest, and swallowed. Amayami was no fool. Touga for all intents and purposes was a wise choice for mate. He had power, wealth, and prestige, all of which, coupled with her own, would be bequeathed to their children. Although considering Touga's bloodthirsty and warmongering nature, she found it more probable her fate would be that of a young widow.

"Once the concubines are dismissed," she began evenly, ignoring her husband's annoyed growl, "I will perform my conjugal duties, but until such time you shall not touch me."

Touga frowned forbiddingly. "It is your duty to grant me an heir."

Amayami smiled as one would at a small child. "Most certainly," she agreed with a small nod. " Which is why they must be dismissed." Not granting him the chance to retort, she explained: "It will likely be many years before I conceive, in which time-" she paused to weigh her words- "an accident could occur."

"It would not be considered an heir," he insisted, still bewildered as to why she was so adamantly against his concubines.

"No," she dryly acceded. "None of your concubines are powerful enough to produce one worthy-"

"And you are?" he snapped, though he already knew the answer.

"You know I am," she retorted, an indisputable statement of fact. "Can you honestly state you would deny your own child even if fostered from dubious origin?" The heavy, uncertain silence was the only answer she required. Her tone grew dark. "I shall allow nothing, no one, to jeopardize the legacy of _our_ children."

Having spoken more words than she had during their entire marriage thus far, Amayami fell into silence. Touga too remained silent as he digested her carefully measured words. He was uncertain of his reaction. On one hand he was furious she had dared make demands on a matter he'd decided was settled. However, by the same token, he was pleased that she had the foresight to consider the ramifications of what seemed to be their biggest dilemma. Beyond that was the realization, by her own admission, that she had accepted him as the father of her children.

Still, it would not do to be the first to yield.

"I shall take your-" his tone dropped- "inadequacy into consideration."

Amayami snorted, outwardly unperturbed by his barb. Certainly she could not be faulted for being young. Yet inexplicably it stung. "I trust that you will."

Without further word she ascended to the air. Her flight was steady, though it lacked her usual grace. He watched until she was swallowed by darkness. His eyes scanned the battlefield, the desolate rocks and charred, shattered buildings. It had been a thriving human village once, one paramount to the enemy's supply lines. He had crushed it without mercy, without regret, and would do so again should the need arise.

Lightning illuminated the land in bands of silver as thunder echoed in its wake. It was early in the year for such storms. He lingered for a moment, lost in thought.

Arguing with Amayami was an exercise in frustration. The more she resisted, and the greater her obstinacy, the more he desired her. She was that which was within his grasp but always unobtainable. He could beat her, kill her, but he would never conquer her. He strode from the battlefield, his lips quirked into a humorless smile. Perhaps this marriage was fate's subtle form of irony.

-

It was not until true darkness had fallen that he finally arrived at his castle. The rain had ceased, leaving the air humid and the sky silver pricked velvet. The guards stood at attention as he wordlessly strode through the gate. They greeted him crisply and with the respect that was to be expected. He paid neither them nor any of the servants heed. Agitation oozed from his being as he stalked across the courtyard. He paused at the gate, which led to the section of the castle reserved for family.

His broad shoulders fell forward as he allowed himself to press his forehead against the weathered wood. After a moment, his face slackened, his neck lolled to the side, and an exasperated sigh escaped his lips. She was going to be the death of him.

Ironically, he needed her far greater than she needed him, if she even needed him at all. It was frighteningly apparent the Eastern annexation would not go as smoothly as he had hoped. The Eastern Lord, Amayami's father, had been too loved and he too loathed. His atrocities, and not the promised prosperity, preceded him. An uprising, if not full-scale civil war, was highly inevitable.

With his legions exhausted, his ranks depleted and his resources plundered, another conflict could well prove disastrous. Pacification, until such time that he regained strength, was his only option. Which brought him to the most valuable resource at his disposal. His wife.

Amayami, with her cold and insolent façade, had managed to become as loved as her father. Her people respected her, held her in the highest regard, and looked to her for guidance during these chaotic times. Perhaps wisely, for she was brilliant, powerful, and, in accordance with the treaty, had military and political might equal to his. He began lightly thumping his forehead against the wooden gate. Matters were supposed to be less difficult after the armistice. Now a war fought with words, rather than blades, was being waged in his household.

Absentmindedly his fingers touched his still scoured cheek. He had expected her to be insipid, to faint and swoon at the threat of his displeasure. He had never expected her to grant him reason to feel weak.

"You are in my way."

Touga straightened immediately, slightly annoyed by the flat tone. He turned in a swirl of fur and silk. Tenaciously he crossed his arms over his chest. He frowned forbiddingly. "Where have you been?"

Amayami sighed heavily, ignoring the shooting pain erupting in her chest from the trivial exertion. "I am exhausted and have no desire to deal with you further."

She took a single step forward, annoyance coloring her features for he remained unmoving. Glaring silently at each other, they continued their standoff, neither willing to yield to the other. Thunder rumbled as rain once again began to tumble freely from the night sky.

She stared icily into his fiery eyes. It was pointless to argue a matter that was closed. She would not yield to him or he to her. It was an impossible situation, made worse by the legalities that bound them. A humorless smile curled at her thin lips.

"Am I not worthy a single favor?" Her voice was soft, almost lost in the driving rain. "You constantly insist I am your wife, as if I was some addled fool in need of a reminder." Her tone grew sharp. "Yet, it is you who steadfastly refuses to be my husband!"

Her words ended in a hiss, her face pale with barely contained rage. She turned, intent on flight. He reached out, claws piercing through the expensive uchikake he had carelessly ripped during their earlier scuffle.

Bewilderment filled him, although he remained astute enough to realize the nature of her outburst. "Amayami…"

It was soft, gentle, nowhere near his usual gruff tones. He nuzzled his face at her neck. Gingerly he kissed a barely sealed wound at her throat. Fury wove through him at the hint of blood mingling with the rain and the sweet taste of her flesh. It was he who harmed her, but it was she who drove him to the brink of madness.

She made a tiny, almost inaudible hurt sound as he coiled his arms around her. Touga turned gently, careful not to jar her as he delicately prodded the side in which he had kicked her. Her ribs were bruised if not broken. For one of her power such injuries were inconsequential. However, concern and perhaps a healthy dose of guilt suggested a course of prudence rather than grandeur.

His hand slid down her shoulders to splay gently at the small of her back. He coaxed her forward, his free arm encircling her thin waist. "We shall speak as your injuries are tended to."

Amayami snorted. She jerked away brusquely and brushed past him. She pushed the gate open slowly, its well-oiled hinges groaning in protest. She paused to glance dispassionately at him over her shoulder. A moment passed almost tangibly. Neither moved, nor spoke, the distant rumble of thunder the only sound in the thickening silence. She sighed, eyes fluttered shut, her lips quirking into a dispassionate smile. "Enjoy your concubines."

With expedience belying her injuries, she made her way to her bedchamber. Silently she slid open the door as she loosened the ties on her ruined uchikake. Not bothering to remove her shoes, she all but collapsed on her futon. Amayami flung one arm over her eyes; the other she braced against her wounded side. Already she could feel the bones quivering, their shattered ends trembling to become whole once more.

Her eyes prickled, stinging with the tears she would not shed. She missed her father and her cousins that were almost siblings. They had understood her need for seclusion, her long silences, and her introspective manner. In the Western hold there were too many servants pawing at her, too many dignitaries demanding her attention. It would be better had she not had a husband to remind her of her failings at every turn. He cared nothing for her, other than that she was not warming his bed.

Amayami shifted slightly, grimacing at the new pang in her chest.

"It would be less painful if you were to sit up."

"Perhaps," she acknowledged behind covered eyes. Her expression remained passive, though inwardly she cursed her partially undressed state.

The futon shifted as Touga's heavy weight settled beside her. He said nothing as he removed her muddied boots and tossed them nonchalantly into the far corner. Cool air caressed her skin as he parted her uchikake as well as the layers of her under kimono. She remained passive, refusing to grant him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Amayami felt her futon shift again as Touga rose and covered her with a blanket. The adjoining door slid open with a _whoosh, _announcing his departure

She had just fallen into the teetering of sleep when the futon shifted once more. Strong arms slid beneath her, lifting her; her arms wound instinctively around his neck. She leaned into his broad chest, too exhausted to protest. Perhaps it was exhaustion, or pain, or the fact that he was her husband, that caused her not to protest as he completely undressed her.

She inhaled, held, as he wound yards of bandages around her bruised and battered ribcage. He completed his task in silence, not speaking until he, at last, tied off the end of the bandage. "Perhaps you are correct."

A quizzical expression flowed over her aloof countenance. He sighed as he propped her up on pillows. "Perhaps my skills as a husband could be improved." Amayami arched a sardonic brow but said nothing. It was, in her opinion, a gross understatement.

An unwelcome sense of vulnerability sidled into her resolve, as she lay injured and exposed. Sensing her discomfort, or perhaps to sooth his own, he pulled the blanket to her chin.

"But I cannot be a proper husband if I do not have proper wife."

Amayami _hmphed _and lifted her chin haughtily. "Then it seems we are at an impasse."

He nodded slightly before brushing his lips against her temple. "Get some rest," he ordered as he rose swiftly. "Our day begins at dawn."

Amayami fisted the blankets to her chest and watched him disappear into his room. The compulsion to flee welled strong within her, but was crushed ruthlessly. She would not run from her duty or her fate. She would be the sovereign her father bade her to become. Neither her upbringing nor her very nature would permit her to be weak.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter four

Amayami woke with anxiety slip-sliding at the edge of her mind. Twisted shadow danced along the edge of her peripheral vision. As foreboding perfumed air already choked with tension, an undefined something lurked in the back her consciousness.

A sharp peal of thunder broke through the stillness of her bedchamber, causing her to bolt upward, clinging desperately to her silk sheets. Shuddering inelegantly at the sound, hand splayed against her battered ribcage, she breathed in ragged and harsh. Lightning flashed, followed almost immediately by another deafening roar of thunder. Trepidation crept up her spine, slowly eroding all sense of equanimity.

She drew her knees to her chest, hugging them close to ward off the sudden chill. Her half-knit ribs screamed in burning protest, but she bit her lip, digging her fangs into the soft tissues and swallowed back a whimper. She buried her face in her arms, her pale hair tangled about her, creating a pearlescent haven from both real and imagined shadow. Her throat worked, fangs grinding deeper into her bottom lip as she fought back the sting in her eyes.

Never had she felt so completely alone or so utterly frightened. Not during the war when death lurked in every shadow. In those days, adversity was met with grim certainty. Any who threatened her father, her people, or herself- for each held equal import- were vanquished. Her enemies found her merciless, fearless, and without regret. A being that tore through her opponents, ripped them asunder, and poisoned them until nothing remained, save fragments of bleached and yellowed bone.

She was nightmare-death made flesh.

But to those she called allies, she was the epitome of noble grace, beauty, and power. One who defended the lesser, protected the innocent, and guided all through the strength of her near divinity. Battle had honed the prowess granted through her bloodline.

Boasts from the awe-loosed tongues of vassals had led to an epiphany. Unwitting insult often wore the guise of shameless flattery. They had decreed her lineage so fine that not even gender could diminish its power and potential. She, a daiyoukai of daiyoukai, proved more than a match for any male.

Amayami smiled bitterly. Perhaps they truly believed eight millennia of selective breeding, power to beget power, could be circumvented by probability.

But she was digressing, and more importantly, suddenly aware of another's presence within her bedchamber. Her head jerked up, and her eyes, though glassy, stared hard at her husband. "What are you doing in here?"

Touga moved closer, stepping into the glow cast by the storm's inconstant lightning. His face was raw and pitted with many wounds, etched by the shadows. He shifted, partially obscuring his wounds from her sight, but the cold, commanding dignity of his voice remained. "It's my castle I go-"

Amayami snorted and looked away, dismissing him.

He frowned, balling his fists at sides as youki spiked around him. It was his stronghold, she was his wife, and she damn well would look at him while he spoke! Lightning flashed and thunder crashed, the storm an echo to his inner fury.

He stalked forward, every step firmly planted, until he stood mere inches from her bed. Reaching for her, intent on jerking her from bed -he stopped just short. Sharp, monstrous claws gleamed ominously in a sudden flash of lightning. Hovering, inches from her delicate flesh, he flexed his fingers, feeling their thickness and knowing their strength. For the first time he noticed, the fineness of her bones, the narrowness of her shoulders, the slenderness of her waist. How very fragile and young she seemed.

His hand dropped, falling limp at his side. "I was listening to your breathing," he admitted, wondering why he offered her an explanation when he would have done so for no other. Inexplicably, his anger, so fiery a moment ago, had cooled into unfamiliar shame. '_I demand too much, but offer too little.' _He moved again, but this time to slide slowly to his knees at her bedside.

After a moment, Amayami let out a soft sigh, pressing her cheek against her knee as she looked at him. Her eyes were soft and unfocused, her lips barely parted. His breath hitched as he found himself captivated by the pale luminance of ethereal beauty.

Enraptured, but feeling strangely like a boy again, his voice grew warm and secretive. "I was listening…..and-" he smiled sheepishly "-I fell asleep."

A smile tugged at her thin lips, followed by an imperceptible headshake. She inhaled deeply and was assaulted by the heady smell of rain mingled with the warm scent of him. Her senses were suddenly overwhelmed, awoken by a sort of foreign awareness. His uneven breaths echoed in time with her pounding heart and his bare chest seemed fitting with her near nakedness. She shuddered and clenched the rumpled silk sheet tighter to her breasts. Valiantly fighting the urge to trace her fingers along the stripe curling around the hollow of his hip.

Only to be nearly undone, when he, using her distraction, slipped beneath her guard. His warm fingers brushed her knee and inched up her leg, trailing fire behind them. Claws and war-roughened palm, pricked and scratched her soft flesh as his hand slid, palm flat, between her thighs. Reaching for where none had touched her before.

Amayami's hand shot out, fast enough that Touga's eyes widened in surprise. Silently, she grabbed his wrist and held it in a near crushing grasp. She glowered at him, pale eyes narrowed in anger, despite the faint flush that colored her cheeks. An instant later, her grip loosened, and he slid his arm back until his palm rested in hers.

She was trembling. Touga watched another fine, almost imperceptive tremor shake her small-boned frame. Again, he was reminded of her seeming frailty, and her obvious youth.

"What did you dream of?" he asked softly. Her distress had been tangible, continuing to cling to her in the anxiety-fraught moments after she woke. He had never witnessed such abject terror in all his long years.

An ember of shame burned in her eyes, but it was smothered by the force of her resolve. Her eyes were neither flat nor opaque, as he had first thought, but rather _sinking_. Depthless reaches which absorbed all and allowed nothing to escape.

"Dream?" she whispered, voice unsure. She remembered fragments of dreamscape darkness. A voice had whisper-cried had amongst form-shaped shadows as death took its wanton toil. "I don't remember," she rasped, though her eyes claimed otherwise.

Touga reached out to cup her chin, his eyes serious and searching. He moved forward, slowly, his lips hovering over hers. "Would you tell me if you did?"

His breath caressed her skin, nose nuzzling hers as his thumb massaged soothing circles into her palm. Amayami drew back slightly, and found his grip, though gentle, unyielding. She tried to tear her gaze away, but that too proved impossible. "No," she breathed out on the tail end of a gasp.

He sniffed, a slight, humorless smile tugging at his lips. Her answer was predictable one he knew before asking. She would die before confiding in him. That she, his wife, would close herself to him, and that it wounded him, was unbearable. His eyes fluttered shut, denying the unexpected pang of rejection, his silvery lashes brushing like fine feathers against her cheek.

"You don't trust me," he murmured, lips dropping to graze against hers.

Wordlessly, her fingers slid into his hair, pulling it loose from its binding, to swing gracefully pass his hips. Her fingertips slipped from his hair, down the firm line of his jaw, his wounds lumpy and slick beneath her fingers. She kissed him tenderly, almost regretfully, no more than chaste brush of lips. "No."

She drew back as his hand slipped from her chin. His hand trailed slowly down her throat, pass her collarbone to the soft swell of her breasts. She shuddered her breath hitching and a sound- no more than a surprised gasp- escaped from between her lips. Encouraged, he trailed feather-light fingers across the rumpled sheet pressed precariously to her chest. His fingers teased the fabric, claws catching on the creases, as his hand slipped lower to gently cup her breast. She was softer than he had dreamed.

Delicately, almost imperceptibly, he tugged the sheet, watching as it fluttered down to pool around her narrow waist. Before she could protest, he slanted his mouth fully over hers, feeling the satin texture of her lips as he deepened the kiss. He moaned as his tongue slipped into her mouth, between her fangs, and felt the soft, tentative response of her own. The firm, hungry pressure of his lips mimicked the tender, gentle attention of his hand at her breast. An inarticulate sound escaped him- more growl than gasp.

He ached for her, was slowly being driven mad by the need to utterly possess her. His sinewy hands circled her waist, feeling her silky skin beneath his rougher fingers, marveling at her soft curves over sleek muscle- beauty that was not without power. Butterfly kisses skimmed his throat, weighted slightly by the dewy, moistness of her lips.

He shuddered in anticipation as her hand drifted lower, skimming between their bodies. Claws clicked along his belly, gliding across corded muscle to splay against his waist. Languid fingers floated over to his hip, tentatively brushing its hollow. Whisper-touches traced the stripe there, swirling imaginary paths along its forbidden surface.

Her pale, pleasure-darkened eyes smoldered with secret knowledge. Then widening when he pried her fingers from their path, and gently guided them lower. She jerked away, as if burned, her breath echoing in rapid, near panicked pants. Only to calm as his kisses slowed to soothing caresses. He pressed careful pecks to the corners of her mouth, the end of her nose, and the sensitive expanse behind her ear. Pecking down her throat, along her collarbone, then lower until his lips found her breast.

A rasp of surprise wrung from her throat as she shuddered, eyes trembling shut against the unfamiliar sensation. His name fell from her lips, even as a protest died on her tongue. Sensations compounded, each more intense than the last, melding into a cacophony of heated souls and twisted sense.

He leaned forward, gathering her in his arms as his hands roamed her body possessively. Her face twisted and she suddenly stiffened. A faded whimper sounded in the slim column of her throat. All of which, he mistook for pleasure.

As he dragged her against him into his lap, shifting until her knees hugged his hips, she recoiled. She swallowed twice, unable to find her voice. Inexplicably, his maddening kisses coupled with the cutting pain had rendered speech into ragged pants. Shaking her head, she tried to stand, but he caught her by the arm. And jerked her forward whilst he inwardly glowered.

He had known she would eventually regain her senses, remember she hated him and angrily storm away, cursing his existence. With hungry determination, his lips fed on hers, eager to rekindle the passion she fought against. But, to no avail. Frustrated, he kissed her harder, fiercer, demanding submission. She grew still and silent, only to begin her struggles again moments later. It was then, he abandoned all pretense of tenderness and kissed her violently, allowing his hands to roam urgently down her back.

Suddenly, and with strength that seemed impossible, she violently him shoved away. Accidentally gouging long, shallow wounds against his chest. Hissing, he grabbed for her again, snagging the tattered edge of her bandages.

Touga froze in mid-gesture and shirked back, having finally realized what he had been doing to her. Amidst the haze of sense eroding passion, he had forgotten she was injured -that he had injured her. Gingerly he brought his hand to her side, cringing when she flinched.

"Let me see," he coaxed in a voice laden with sympathy.

Amayami pressed her lips into a firm, thin line, curling her arm protectively over her ribs, and shook her head. Her face was ashen, her breathing shallow and pained as she trembled. Sudden flashes of lightning highlighted her nude form in a nimbus of silver.

Oddly, her nudity made him uneasy, though why he could not say. Perhaps, it was her porcelain skin, or her lithe muscle, neither of which seemed adequate to cover her willowy frame. Serving as lovely reminders of a stark reality.

Guilt slithered into his heart, coiling around his self-ingrained, all-important arrogance. Squeezing, until only the shame-bitter truth remained--she was young, almost too young. And if she had not been his wife, had not belonged to him, he would never dared to touch her. Never would have thought to rob her of her fleeting innocence.

Expression neutral, he snagged the discarded sheet, draping it over her shoulders, allowing its ends to fall loosely onto the hard wood floor. Without hesitation, she pulled it tight against her, huddling and shivering beneath its silken drape as if afflicted with a sudden chill.

He slid his arm around her shoulders, gingerly pulling her against his chest. She tensed, silently straining away from him. Affectionately, he nuzzled her cheek, pausing to bury his face in her sweet scented hair. "Forgive me," he whispered against her hair, his hand rubbing soft circles against her spine.

The words were weighted and meaningful, as if he were pleading for more than a solitary absolution. Unseen, Amayami smiled faintly, and though her chest throbbed, she relaxed enough to lay her head against his shoulder. Lightly, almost apologetically she caressed the fresh wounds on his chest. They were shallow and bled only slightly, but even so, would take days to heal. Such was the nature of her debilitating poison.

She lifted her chin enough to see his ravaged visage. Raw and pitted as if scalded with incardinine wax, each wound was a grisly reminder of her lapse. That it had been an accident, a simple miscalculation, offered her no comfort.

Suddenly she felt his eyes, watching her with a measured stare. She kissed him gently, as if he were made of glass. Then, just as gently, kissed his pocked cheeks and ravaged eyelids. "Do they hurt?" she whispered as she tenderly touched his wounds.

He caught her delicate fingers in his hand, and brought them to his lips before answering. "Only when I think about it." He dusted kisses over her knuckles, and pressed a lingering one to her palm. Shaking his head, he rose to his feet. He had reached a decision, one that needed his immediate attention. It would mean yielding to her whim, something he had done for no other. However, he could not help but believe that he perhaps owed her this small concession.

"Go back to bed." He paused in the doorway of their adjoining rooms, turned, and quirked a small smile. "Good night, Amayami."

Amayami frowned, opening her mouth to protest, but clicked it shut as the door closed behind him. Slowly, an uneasy silence crept over her bedchamber as if lured in by his absence. Lightning snaked over the castle, illuminating darkness into day. Waves of soothed, but not forgotten anxiety, rushed over her, leaving her nearly gasping for breath. Gathering her long practiced, though highly taxed resolve, she breathed deeply and willed all tension to abate.

Deftly she rose, lifting the sheet with her, careful not to let its silken edges drag on the floor. Her hands shook, but she dismissed the tremor as a chill blown in with the spring storm. Briefly, she considered rousing her handmaidens to light the fire, or to at least help her dress, but she dismissed the idea as quickly as it came. She was in no mood for their preening, simpering, or infuriating false flattery.

Mornings had degraded into a stagnation of tedium with their servitude. They would greet her at dawn, wearing deceptive smiles and leering glances. One would praise her beauty, as if it were important. And the other, not to be outdone, would gape at her power, as if it were not obvious.

Amayami smiled wryly, tapping her forehead with one finger. The very thought of them was enough to give her stirrings of a headache. Determined to remain steadfast, she dropped the sheet, allowing it to fall carelessly at her feet. Quietly, she slipped into an elegant sleeping gown. Its long, gossamer sleeves brushing her ankles as she crept, almost on tiptoe, to the adjoining door. Distantly, she wondered what matter had given Touga cause to rush off so suddenly.

Frowning she stepped away, denying the all too real urge to go to him. It was not that she wanted his company, but rather, she did not wish to be alone, despite her love of solitude.

Willfully raising her chin, she turned on her heel and walked to the double doors leading to her private balcony. She was no scared, weakling child that needed protection from real and imagined enemies lurking in shadows. There were worse things to be found in darkness, some of which she had personally met.

Still, despite all her efforts, a thread of anxiety, more apprehension than fear, had stitched itself to her soul. She flung open the doors breathing in as deeply of the night air as her battered chest would allow. The storm-frenzied wind sailed through her long hair and gown, molding them to her body, and spraying her with a fine misting of rain.

The storm was relentless, furious, as if it were seeking vengeance for some unknown slight. Rain fell in torrents from the eaves of the castle, creating a veil of water before her. Reaching a hand forward, she allowed the rain to fill her cupped palm. It was icy and biting like the shadow-fingers that had reached from the nightmare depths of her dreams. She dropped her hand, spilling the frigid water on her bare toes. Staring at the growing puddle at her feet she whispered, "It was just a dream."

Thunder cracked, ear-splitting in its intensity, as if it meant to contradict her statement. Grimacing, she fought the urge to cover her ears as she watched the lightning flash lazily over the gardens. Long had she loved to watch storms, but this one seemed most unnatural. A portent of events to come.

Such thoughts were foolish. If her father were here, he would reprimand her swiftly. However, he was not, and thus she had no one to scold her, save herself. She missed him, although she had tried not to, and wished he were here. He had told her to be brave, to be strong, and to be the leader their people deserved. It was proving to be a task easier said, than done.

Sighing, she leaned against the doorframe, chasing all thoughts, especially those of self-pity, from her mind. She was content to watch the storm until it ceased, or her handmaidens intruded. Idly, she tossed a look behind her at the still shut door of their adjoining bedrooms. Half-expecting him to burst forth and again trespass on her solitude. Worse, she almost welcomed the prospect.

She touched her hand, still damp from the rain, to her lips. Touga had been the only male, youkai or otherwise, to ever kiss her. And he would also be the only male to ever touch her. She smiled bitterly, and longed, ineffectually, that at least one, a solitary intimacy could have been with someone of her choosing. Which was why what happen tonight would not be repeated. Though she could not help but wonder, almost fantasize, what would have happened had they not stopped.

Scowling, she banished the traitorous thoughts from her mind and once again endeavored to think of nothing. Or at least not him or his maddening, infuriating, and tempestuous ways. Agitated, her eyes flicked to the gate where the guards, despite the storm, stood in rigorous attention. Few things pleased her about her new home, but amongst them were the castle guards' dedication to duty.

Lazily, her eyes drifted over the battlements to the women's quarters of the castle. Where her husband's concubines and their attendants were housed. Eyes blazing, she stared hard at the lights burning unexpectedly within the chambers. Suddenly, the reason behind Touga's hasty departure became all too apparent.

Turning on her heel, mist-soaked sleeves dripping icy rain on the dark wood floor, she stalked to the closed door separating her bedchamber from her husband's. Pressing undecided fingers against its smooth surface, she paused. Inhaling deeply and holding her breath, she slowly and ever so quietly slid the door open.

In that instance, she was uncertain which was worse that the room was empty, or the sudden sting in her eyes.


	5. Chapter Five

#**Oyakata: **one's master or boss. Attaching -sama garners extra respect to the title. 

Inu no Taishou: Leader of Dogs, Touga's official title.

****

Koto: a stringed instrument more or less like a zither

****

Uchikake: A bright and colorful kimono worn elusively by ladies of warrior or noble families. They are crafted from silk and silk brocade and richly embroidered. In colder weather, it would be tied half-open over three more layers of kimono.

****

Hakama- A divided or undivided skirt, rather like a very wide pair of pants.

--

Chapter Five

Touga stepped to the edge of the veranda, frowning slightly at the lightening sky. Leaning heavily against the waist-high railing, its dark-polished wood creaking beneath his weight, he peered into the rain-battered gardens.

Lush wisteria and fragrant jasmine climbed and tumbled over the garden's exquisite bronze statues of old lords, dead kings, and legendary heroes. A great, ancient willow stretched high, towering over the gardens and castle gates. Beautiful and graceful, its delicate pale-barked branches trimmed in lacy leaves had long shelter the rolling gardens. Under the onslaught of centuries of wind and rain it swayed and bent, but remained forever unbreakable. Sheer, unrivaled tenacity had allowed this simple tree to exist for countless generations.

Older than his father's father, it had witnessed the rise and fall of empires whilst forever remaining unchanged. It would outlive his sovereignty, his stronghold, and even his own lifetime. And yet it seemed so fragile, so utterly incapable of the strength inherent within its slender boughs.

Reconciling ostensible fragility with veritable strength was a task easier considered than accomplished. All creatures, and he was no different, relied heavily on outward appearance. He, for instance, was tall, broad shouldered, and battle hardened. Nothing about his sinewy limbs or his imposing visage could be construed as fragile. Simply, he looked powerful, and thus others were rightfully wary.

However, those same beings, which experienced trepidation at his appearance, would ultimately dismiss the willow. Never considering that it had weathered unimagined hardship, yet still remained strikingly beautiful and chillingly powerful. Its beauty, like the lush blossoms of a thorny rose or the vibrant coils of a sleepy adder, was but a deception.

Touga shook his head at the strange meander his thoughts had taken. Wondering if it was truly the willow or something closer, but just as aloof, which occupied his thoughts. He stared beyond the willow, past the winding wisteria and climbing jasmine, realizing, whilst they had not changed, his life had been forever altered.

Changed not by what had once been considered a perpetual war or the civil unrest that loomed in its aftermath, but by the addition of his stunningly beautiful, terrifyingly powerful, and painfully young bride.

Touga's lips tugged into a wry smile. She had thwarted his delusions of grandeur and toppled him from his self-appointed pedestal. And he, despite his steadfast denial, had enjoyed every moment. While marveling in all she had accomplished, all that she was, despite her fragile youth. She was the leader he longed to become. One to whose people swore allegiance, not from fear, but because she had proven worthy of their loyalty. Had he been a lesser being, he might have resented her with a jealousy unbefitting his station.

But he was no lesser, and thus not ruled by such petty trifles. He, with all his great power, had fought and won the title of Inu no Taisho. But victory would remain elusive until he possessed her utterly. His lips twitched ruefully at the realization that what had been a simple a political accord, had evolved into something that was neither simple nor completely political.

He had thought Amayami lovely at their first meeting. Thought her beautiful, but foolishly dismissed her as powerless. As the days had turned to weeks, however, she contested his every word and action, forcing him to reevaluate all he had believed. She was no shadow of power, just as his strength was not absolute.

In one month she accomplished more than his tutors, advisors, or even peers had in centuries. Challenged him intellectually, while touching him emotionally; awaking instincts and senses he had not known he possessed. She was often cold and silent, but still passionate and candid when the need arose. Speaking only when necessary, acting only when proper, yet, seldom resisting the urge to provoke him. She was infuriating, utterly vexing, and, he valued every word she uttered.

His smile grew, eyes twinkling. That is, when he did not wish to throttle her.

Savoring last night's painfully brief moment of passion had allowed him to reach an epiphany. A fevered realization, one that grew stronger with each tender kiss and every soft caress. Wholly, conflicting with her bone-deep dignity and his soul-smoldering _want._ Knowing, despite her strength, aloofness, and confidence, she remained elusively vulnerable. Untouchable, but also needing, perhaps wanting, to be sheltered.

It was a feeling that went beyond base possession or simple ownership. No more than the barest inkling, but it had been enough to stir his soul. He wanted to protect her from everything, including himself. Snorting a laugh, he shook his head and thought himself a fool.

"Oyakata-sama?" a gravelly voice called from behind him

Touga almost sighed, grateful for something to occupy his thoughts other than his most baffling wife. "Kanyane," he drawled as he pushed away from the wooden handrail, straightening to his formidable height.

Kanyane doddered forward, his two headed staff cane ringing against the wooden floor, and stopped short. Watery eyes narrowed as a frown thinned his sallow lips. Impatience wafted from his lord in a near tangible sheen of agitation.

Worriedly Kanyane ground his teeth, a dour look of concentration creeping across his weathered features. A tremor ran through him, growing until his staff tapped against the hardwood floor in an erratic cadence. He muted the sound with a low bow, leaning heavily against his cane as if attempting to absorb even a sliver of the strength inherent to the dark, polished wood.

His lord's impatience was not a pretty thing. In fact, good servants had died, and most of them painfully, aggravating his impetuosity. Kanyane knew well enough that only one matter, a solitary aggravation, could drive his lord to such a state. That distress was nothing more than a half-grown whelp that thought herself male, but had the audacity to call herself a noblewoman.

Oh, he supposed, her bloodline was blue enough. But her manner was common and unbefitting a daiyoukai of her stature. Inwardly, Kanyane sneered. If were only younger, and decidedly more powerful, he would most certainly take her to task.

Regrettably, daiyoukai are born, not made. Although, he was indisputably ancient and learned, his youki remained weak and his bloodline impure. She could kill him with a thought, and had, undoubtedly, entertained the notion.

Although, had he truly been honest with himself, he would have realized that she barely considered him at all. Despite his insistence to the contrary, he found her slight unforgivable. A rage that grew daily, for she seemed determined to undermine all he, through centuries of subtle manipulation, shrew negotiation, and oblique duplicity, had accomplished.

At first, like many others, he had mistakenly believed Amayami-sama little more than a pretty, but insipid placeholder. If it were up to him, she would have kept to her embroidery and koto lessons, disregarding the armistice.

But she had embraced the bicameral sovereignty over the Western Lands, once married. A duality, in which, neither sovereign held greater military, governing, or political sway than the other. Regrettably, most, including Touga-sama, had considered the provision little more than a formality. Gleefully, turning a blind eye to Amayami-sama, and offering little credence to the heir of a conquered enemy. Her place was to please her lord husband, to support him, and to bare him powerful sons.

Infuriatingly uncouth, Amayami rebelled, or more accurately, asserted her authority in territorial matters. Efficient, cold, and utterly detached, she had sent more than one courtier scurrying. Men of the court, long accustomed to wartime self-sufficiency were overwhelmed in face of her unrelenting, ever-presence.

Which coupled with the Inu no Taisho's own diligence, assured that nothing, no matter how trivial, escaped scrutiny. Often, it was her youth and formality, which balanced Touga's maturity and impetuosity. Pity, neither realized how truly alike they were.

Regrettably, her youth, which at times was a great asset, made her an oddity in the court. As did her peculiar mindset. Her judgments were altruistic in nature, but executed with a stern pragmatism. A fact many courtiers could not reconcile.

However, a few, particularly those of lesser, albeit wealthy, houses supported Amayami and the bicameral throne. After generations of brutal war, desperate famine, and squandered lives, she was embraced as the tether to Touga-sama's avaricious imperialism. He could not declare war, invade territory, or deploy troops without her sanction.

For those who grew wealthy during wartime, such as Kanyane, it could well prove a precursor to disaster. Blessedly, while her fingers seemed to touch upon everything, most of her energy seemed focused on the war-ravaged eastern providence. Undoubtedly, because, at least in her mindset, the territory was still separate and belonged to her father, Takayuki, she had mandated immediate reparations.

Strenuously insisting that if the east was rebuilt and made to flourish, it could only benefit the west, she had impressed many with her insight, but others, like Kanyane, believed her motives were more sinister. Before annexation, Amayami had been heir apparent to conquered territory. For that reason alone, her detractors charged that her steadfast refusal to swear allegiance to the Inu no Taisho was evidence of disloyalty. Others, however, thought her bold, believing that only with equality could allegiances be truly understood.

Amayami's true motives remained unspoken, and were best left to speculation. Either way, it mattered little, for Touga-sama generally agreed with his wife. This, in turn prompted many lesser nobles, little more than sycophants, to approve increased taxation for the strict purpose of reconstruction. All the while, proclaiming that the royal marriage was the cornerstone to unified peace.

It was all _so_ very nauseating.

Worse was how they disgraced themselves before her. To think, highbred youkai of the most prestigious houses whined and simpered at her heels! Fawning over her every word, her every action, like a pack ill-bred mongrels over a bone. Little more than the dogs their youkai forms resembled.

But, Kanyane was not a dog -at least not completely. Inwardly he smirked, smug in his self-defaming humor. Therefore, he was blessedly immune to her dubious charms. In fact he barely, if at all, considered the brat. Other than she was quickly impeding his progress with her asinine proposals. The greatest of which being that compensation must also be extended to the _humans_ of both providences.

It was enough to knock sense back into the throng of simpletons for precious few were affable to the notion, and most were bewildered or derisive. But Amayami had contended, explaining in her soft, resonating voice, that the humans were a valuable resource. One that must be preserved, protected, and developed for the good of the territory. They were, as Amayami had scandalously proclaimed, _the legs we stand upon._

Utterly preposterous! Humans were little more than vermin, and to suggest otherwise was absurd. So what if they starved? Who cared if they died? There were thousands elsewhere exactly like them. Most were scandalized by the notion, while others dismissed her as a bleeding heart human lover. Had Amayami been able to read minds, she would have likely killed them on principle. She was not overly sympathetic to humans or to anyone for that matter, and certainly did not tolerate suggestions to the contrary.

If anything, she was decidedly enigmatic, possessing an allure that made her dangerous. Her depthless, entrapping eyes and cold, elegant beauty could sway anyone, including the Inu no Taisho. Perhaps she already had, for it was apparent to any who knew him that Touga was not the same youkai he had been a month ago.

Amayami's scent, lingered on his master's flesh, was all the confirmation he needed that she had employed trickery to sway her husband. Using powers only a woman could, she had ensorcelled her lord husband using foul enchantments and the promise of her feminine charms.

Touga's low, rich voice pulled Kanyane from his thoughts of conspiracy, causing the elderly youkai to jump back, startled.

"Did you need something, Kanyane?" Touga asked dryly, sparing the arbitrator a cool, sidelong glance. "Or do you plan to hover there all morning?"

Kanyane grimaced, finding the mannerism too reminiscent of Amayami's flat stare for comfort. Bile bubbled up, but he swallowed it down. _No matter_, he reminded himself. He need only to continue to bide his time and keep up the guise of a contented servant. Eventually, all would come to fruition. It always did.

"Touga-sama," he began in his warmest, most congenial tone. "The Northern Council has offered its fondest felicitations upon your victory." Pausing for a moment, he measured his next words, carefully diluting spite with platitude. "And your marriage."

Touga snorted, tiredly shaking his head. Otherwise, he remained unmoved, seeming captivated with the rain-torn, wind-twisted gardens. "I'm sure," he retorted sardonically, his tone touched with bitterness. "Now that the war is over. They feel safe to slither from their holes."

"Ah, well," Kanyane began, before leaning forward and covering his mouth with one liver-spotted hand. His voice dropping to a low, secretive, ever-helpful whisper, he gently explained the obvious. "My lord, they _are_ snake youkai."

Only to be taken aback by an abrupt snort, followed by a low rumble. It was a strange, raspy, almost growl reverberation, which Kanyane could not place, but still seemed vaguely familiar. Most peculiarly, the sound grew deeper with the passing seconds. Stupefied, he watched as a tremor ran through the mighty daiyoukai before him. Mortified at the sight of his lord's high ponytail bobbing time with his quaking shoulders, Kanyane cautiously inquired, "My Lord?" His tone more bewildered than fearful.

Touga waved Kanyane off dismissively, his still pock marked face, glowing crimson. "Indeed," he choked, finally. Chuckling under his breath, his eyes shone with barely contained mirth. "I see," he rasped, quelling a bit of rebellious laughter with a cough.

Kanyane's jaw dropped and clicked shut, as he wondered exactly what was so funny. Feeling like the butt of a joke, he eyed Touga warily, delivering the remainder of the message in measured tones.

"They also expressed" -he paused, ready to throw his hands up in defeat over Touga's inelegant snorts -"uh concern over current policy."

Touga sobered immediately. Laughter died as his expression darkened into familiar arrogance. "What _concern_?"

Kanyane smiled sinisterly, recognizing golden opportunity. His lord's marriage was hardly stable, and few seeds of discontent could only aid in its further unbalance.

"Well, it's just hearsay," he replied coyly, mock reluctance and apology heavy within his tone. Then, he continued in a tone that brooked no argument. "Nothing to concern yourself with, Oyakata-sama."

Touga turned brusquely, his gold eyes boring into the elderly retainer, watching as the lesser youkai blanched beneath his scouring gaze. "Out with it."

Kanyane made a raspy, _ah_, sound and nodded a bow. "Well, my lord," he stuttered, bowing once more. He played a dangerous game, one that could turn on him in a moment. But, he was confidant, knowing which buttons to push, which nerves to grate, and which strings to pluck. He frowned, pausing just long enough to rile Touga. "Rumor, completely unsubstantiated. In fact, I'm certain-"

Noting Touga's impatient throat clearing and narrowing of his eyes, Kanyane realized his tactic had obviously worked splendidly. He tilted his head humbly, nodding apologetically. "Ah, well," he began, playing his role to the hilt. "They feel Amayami-sama undermines your authority."

A low chuckle, which strengthened into a fit of laughter, erupted from his master. For a moment, Kanyane feared he had made a grave error, his mind wheeling in attempt to salvage the situation. Silence, at least for the moment, seemed his best course of action. Touga also grew silent, his lips curling back, over his teeth, in snarl. "Do they?" he answered in mock surprise, allowing his wounded pride to speak for him.

Kanyane breathed, gathering his calculated wits and his practiced diplomacy. "My humble apologies my lord" -he bowed "-It was not my place to speak of such matters."

Touga offered a dismissive wave before smugly folding his arms over his broad chest. "Tell me, Kanyane. Do you remember my campaigns in the Marshlands?" he asked thoughtfully, almost innocently.

Dumbly, Kanyane bobbed his head, until he, at last, found his voice. "Of course, my lord!" he proclaimed exuberantly. Then quietly continued, reverence heavy in his voice. "It was you that first began to expand the territory. A feat, not even your lord father could accomplish…"

"Yes," Touga drawled, cutting off Kanyane spiel as he turned. Peering into the garden, he allowed his eyes to focused on the ancient willow, and leaned nonchalantly against the waist-high rail. "Do you know how I truly conquered them?" he asked solemnly, as the light fled his eyes.

Not waiting for Kanyane to reply, he completed his thought. "I gave them what they wanted" -he smiled cruelly, his eyes gleaming with secret knowledge- "until they began to offer me what _I_ wanted."

As if on cue, the wind gusted, sailing through his white clothes and silver hair. He watched, in almost-fascination, as the wind buffeted and shook the willow, striping the lacy leaves from its delicate branches.

The leaves fluttered to the ground like scraps of wounded silk. He frowned. It was a sight far too symbolic for his liking. Closing his eyes, although the image was still branded on his mind, he continued. "Eventually, they gave me anything, until I had everything. I always get what I want, Kanyane" -slowly he reopened his eyes- "one way, or another."

His tone was musing, almost absentminded, and all too damning. Yet, it revealed nothing of his true desires, hiding his intense longing for the fundamental simplicities inherent to all creatures. Peace, family, and companionship. Refusing to believe, even for a moment, such yearnings could be selfish.

Had Touga listened to his father, who had been content with a tiny plot of land, or his advisors, who had counseled prudence over action, he might have made wiser judgments. But, he had made a habit of not hearing what displeased him. Unfortunately, that also included his conscience.

He had slaughtered mercilessly, committed countless atrocities, justifying all for the greater good. Never once had he felt a shred of guilt or doubt. Not until he married Amayami. His lips twitched into a smile as what felt to be a great sigh grew in his chest. Remorse was beneath him; he was powerful, fearless, and without regret. Yet, when thought of her, he could think of nothing, but what he had stolen from her.

She was one of the most powerful youkai he had ever met, hindered only by youth and lack of experience. Properly guided and fate willing, she could well surpass him many times over. However, at times, he almost thought her older, if not wiser, than he already. Leaving him wondering, if she had ever truly been allowed to be child.

That was the root of the current conflict within him. Part of him wanted to protect her innocence and what remained of her childhood. It fought the ever-strengthening want within him to plunder her innocence. Demanding to become her husband, not only by law, but also in practice.

"Kanyane," he barked, breaking the long, thoughtful silence. He turned to face the elderly arbiter, who respectfully bowed and averted his gaze. "Have Natsu cancel my appointments. I'm leaving for the week."

The old youkai frowned. "But, Oyakata-sama, the envoy from the Northern Territory is due to arrive any moment" -he gazed at his lord imploringly- "surely you don't mean to leave Amayami-sama alone for such an important matter?"

"Of course not," Touga retorted as he causally hopped over the waist high, wooden handrail. "She's coming with me."

Recovering from his shock, Kanyane stalked to the edge of the veranda, all frailty forgotten in his disdain. He glowered as Touga disappeared through the gate leading to his private section of the castle. His clawed fingers glided idly over the carved female head adorning his staff. It would be reckless, but it seemed he might have to play his hand a bit earlier than he intended.

---

Locating his wife within the confines of his own castle proved to be more ridiculously difficult than it ought to have been. Realizing the early hour, he had first thought to check her bedchamber, but found it empty. Undaunted, he next checked their private dinning room, also finding the small, but well appointed room devoid of her presence.

Leaning against the doorframe, he frowned at her place at the low standing table, noting that her plate, napkin, chopsticks, and even her teacup were still arranged and untouched. Undoubtedly, she had skipped breakfast, yet again. He also knew, if he allowed, she would skip her noon and evening meals as well.

Even then, at best, she would only pick at her meal or take tiny sips of her tea. Allowing her to dine in solitude made little difference, save that she tended to forego eating altogether. Almost worriedly, he realized her appetite seemed only to wane the longer she remained within his stronghold.

Perhaps, she needed a holiday and time away from her duties at the castle, he thought as he strolled down the long, winding halls. He barely containing the urge to glance in random doorways, or most unseemly of all, ask a passing servant if he had seen her. Instead, he offered a barely perceptible nod, allowing the servant to continue uninterrupted.

He descended a flight of stairs, made a left turn, and nearly walked into a throng of vassals. Deftly he sidestepped, curious, but unwilling to draw attention to himself. His gaze swept the crowd, recognizing several minor nobles, bodyguards, and envoys from adjacent territories.

His mood sank as he scanned the crowd. Sneaking away for the week would be more difficult that he first believed. Reason nagged at him, as did obligation. He knew that it was absolutely irresponsible to leave at such a time.

Spotting Amayami in the crowd reminded him of his other, more personal responsibility. With hurried steps he strode forward and was stopped when husky voice called behind him.

"Touga-sama."

Touga rolled his eyes and breathed before turning around. "Akako."

Akako was deer youkai of a minor house and powerful enough to be considered breeding stock. She had been a gift from a conquered house, and most troublesome since his marriage.

Skirts swishing, she slinked forward, and bowed lowly. "Milord," she said, her voice low and seductive. "How are you this fine morning?"

Twinges of annoyance pricked at the back of his skull. Her kind were known for their docility, but Akako was as ruthless as viper. Any fool could understand what his forced ally had intended for her.

He met her steady gaze, frowning as her kimono slipped off one shoulder to reveal a creamy curve of breast. "Fine," he answered, casting a preoccupied glance over his shoulder.

Akako followed his gaze, a frown marring her sharp features. His eyes were on the Lady. Together they watched as Amayami smiled uneasily and excused herself with a bow.

Akako's scowled as Touga made to go after her, moving with quickened steps.

She can't have you! You're mine! she wanted to snarl, but held her tongue. There was etiquette to consider and she would not disgrace herself. Despite her wishes to the contrary, Amayami-sama was Lady wife. _At least for now._

"M-my lord!" she gasped, flinging herself into Touga's path. She needed to stall him, to do something that would keep him from that whelp.

"Ming Li told me you came to our chambers last night," she said coyly, and then fake pouted. "Why did you not come to me?"

He regarded her coldly, growing annoyance clouding his features. "What I do, when I do it, is none of your concern."

The concubine blanched, obviously taken aback. "I did not mean to imply-"

"My Lord?" interrupted a soft feminine voice.

Grateful for the timely rescue, Touga whirled around. "Yes, Aiko?"

Hana smirked at the seething concubine, who twitched in annoyance, and bowed lowly. "Amayami-sama has asked that you join her in the gardens."

Touga looked at Aiko blankly, watching as the girl blushed under his scrutiny. _A child_, he thought to himself. _No older Amayami._

"Thank you, Aiko," he said mildly and offered her an appreciative smile. "You may go."

Aiko bowed low, her black hair swinging down to the floor as Touga strode past her. Not bothering to spare the concubine a parting word.

As he circled the edge of the room, avoiding the myriad of vassals and sycophants, he could feel her eyes upon him and knew she was seething. She had always been jealous, even of the other concubines.

He slipped out the double doors, into the garden, wishing he could simply dismiss her, but her attached could well prove unbreakable.

Still, if he could not dismiss her from his house, he would dismiss her from his thoughts. And did so as he walked down a wood-paved path in search of his wife.

Rounding the corner, he suppressed a snicker as he spotted her in the rapidly closing distance. She had hiked her many-layered kimono up over her knees, its gossamer trains overflowing in her small arms, as she glared at the huge puddle rippling innocently at her feet. She looked absolutely ridiculous, and yet, utterly adorable.

After a moment, perhaps sensing his presence, she stepped away and dropped her hems, allowing them to flutter back in place. She breathed deeply, and then, stiffened reflexively as he stepped up behind her. His hands slid down her arms, circling her narrow waist. Pulling her close, he buried his nose in her springy, jasmine-scented hair.

"Touga," she addressed as he nuzzled her cheek, her tone heavy with protest.

His answer was a soft, whimsical, '_hmm_', as he pressed a soft kiss to the space behind her ear, seeming to care little that his actions were improper or that they troubled her. His lips hovered just above where the dual stripes adorning her cheek began. "You're angry with me," he whispered, noting how cold and unresponsive she remained in his arms.

Amayami, '_hmphed_,' as she slipped out of his grasp and moved out of arm's reach.

Touga inhaled a frustrated breath and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "All right, out with it. What did I do?"

She shook her head, curls bouncing slightly against her shoulders as she peered skyward for a moment. "Nothing," she replied finally. Returning her gaze to him, she smiled pleasantly. "You have most splendidly met _all_ my expectations."

He leveled his gaze at her, suppressing the urge to sigh tiredly. "Why don't I feel as though you're complimenting me?"

Smirking she turned and casually hopped over the mud puddle. "You are wise, Inu no Taishou," she mocked. Not bothering to see if he followed, she stalked down the garden path.

Wearily, Touga clasped a hand over his face, feeling the rough, still healing wounds. And wondered, if he truly wished to spend a full week alone with her. But he knew, without a doubt, he did, even if it meant suffering through the lashings of her tongue and resisting the urge to strangle her.

"We're not done," he nearly bellowed. He scowled at her back as she continued to walk, obviously ignoring him. Speeded by indignation and a longer stride, he caught up to her in moments.

Reaching out, he snagged her elbow, and none too gently, hauled her around to face him. He glared at her, holding her fast with both arms for good measure.

She returned his glare with a withering one of her own, but remained silent.

"Now," he growled, his nostrils flaring as he spoke. "You will listen--"

Without warning, she crushed her lips against his. Silencing his words with a fervent, all-consuming kiss. His hands slid from her arms to circle around her back. Pulling her closer, one hand stroked the small of her back encouragingly. After a moment, she pulled away slightly, her pale cheeks flushed as she gasped swallow breaths of air. Then, she averted her gaze and, despite his protest, pulled herself from his arms.

She stared at him for a moment, a strange expression coloring her features, and turned, dismissing him. More baffled than angry, Touga, stood silently, attempting to understand what exactly had just happened. "Amayami," he began gently, almost warmly.

Only to be cut off by a flat. "Leave me."

Touga's gaze softened as his heart suddenly leapt for her. There was no real anger in her words, only confusion and tiny shred of fear. Against his better judgment, and despite that it was not normally something he would have done, he stepped behind her, and pressed his forehead against the back of her shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asked gently, reaching slowly for her hand.

Surprisingly, she took his offered hand and squeezed it gently. She swallowed, her voice coming out no louder than a whisper. "Just go."

"All right," he answered, smiling against her shoulder blade. Ignoring her shock, her disbelief, and most of all her protests, he wrapped his arm around her middle. Nonchalantly, he lifted her from the ground as if he meant to carry her. "Fine."

"Put me down!" she declared, slapping at him for good measure. When he remained unrelenting, she sagged in his arms, unwilling to resort to violence. "Touga," she commanded, but her tone was nearly pleading. He merely paused to duck as he dragged her through a low doorway. "I have a meeting in half an hour," she added.

His only reply was a gruff snort as he shoved their joint chamber door open. The sight of which, caused Amayami to stiffen to the point that she suddenly became difficult to carry.

Seeming unperturbed, or to at least not notice, he lowered her carefully to the floor. "There is a benefit to lordship you have clearly overlooked," he explained as he moved to her wardrobe.

"And that is?" Amayami asked suspiciously, watching curiously, if not a bit of confusion as he rifled through her clothes.

Unceremoniously, he tossed a kosode, followed by a hakama in her direction, both of which she deftly caught.

"As everyone meets at our discretion," he waved dismissively as he shooed her behind her dressing screen. "schedules are utterly meaningless for us."

Amayami uttered an exasperated sigh, all of her earlier anxiety quickly evaporating. "Touga--"

He cupped her chin, pressing his lips lightly against hers. "I admire your dedication, Amayami, but you'll soon come to realize the more you supervise your subjects they less they will accomplish."

Her look was not a friendly one. "You mean, you don't care how they follow your commands so long as they accomplish their tasks."

Touga frowned, but let the comment go. "Be young for once, 'Maya-chan."

Perhaps it was the diminutive of her name, or his affectionate, teasing tone. Each word rolled from his tongue in soft, warm syllables, and was mirrored with the tenderness of his golden hued irises. Causing her to blush, in spite of herself, and to forget he was the monster who uprooted her existence.

"I am young," she stated, a bit too defensively, more embarrassed than pride-pricked. "Your lackeys remind me everyday."

He smirked as he tweaked her nose playfully. Trying, in vain, to ignore the faint, half-flush dying along the hollow of her throat. Lightening to almost nothingness as it slipped beneath silk brocade of her uchikake. "They're _our_ lackeys," he finally corrected, clearing his throat. Wondering if she had even an inkling how she affected him.

"Truly," she countered dryly, her brow inching up her forehead as she tapped her chin. "Then, I shall replace the lot of them with toad youkai." Taking Touga's silence for disbelief or confusion, she explained. "Toad youkai are renown for their loyalty. In fact once one swears an oath--"

He kissed her suddenly. Drawing her bottom lip into his mouth before delicately taking its plump softness between his teeth as he gently pushed her against the wall. Amayami made a soft sound in her throat, eyes fluttering shut as her fists balled at her sides. She grew utterly still as he began pressing hot, licking kisses down the length of her throat. Pausing, he shifted, placing his hands on the wall, only to find her glaring at him.

Before he could utter a word, she snapped, almost accusingly, "Why do you keep doing that?"

He shook his head in confusion and disbelief, bewildered as why she was suddenly so angry again. Throwing caution to the wind, he kissed her again, lips nibbling at the tender spot below her ear. As he slid his hips against hers, pinning her completely against wall. Running his tongue along the shell of her ear, he whispered unapologetically, "I want you."

Amayami's expression darkened, her claws flexing as she gathered the last threads of her unraveling composure. "As you routinely want four other women," she began with deadly calm, "I hardly find that flattering.

If Touga were even a shade less disciplined, he would have sighed in defeat. Instead, he simply felt vaguely disappointed. It seemed all their conversations invariably circled back to his concubines.

Suddenly, although not inexplicably, her temper flared.

"I know you're stronger," she hissed, dangerously, her white-blue eyes darkening in indignant fury. "You do not have to continue proving it to me!"

His expression dimmed, the fading and scabby wounds on his cheeks crinkling as his eyes narrowed in confusion. Then he laughed, a dark, bitter bray that, despite her rage, sent a chill down her spine. "Oh, if only that were true, dear Amayami," he answered on the tail end of a chuckle. _If only. _He slid his hands down the wall to rest on her thin, delicate shoulders as he lifted his head to whisper in her ear. "But it's not, and I'm not."

He released her suddenly, the ends of his ornate pelt hitting her as he turned. "Change clothes and pack," he ordered, refusing to look at her. "We're leaving."

Leaving her still pressed against the wall, he vanished into his bedchambers. Amayami breathed deeply, hugging herself for something other than just cold. Unsure of what he had meant, but almost certain she had misinterpreted his actions.

Frighteningly, he wanted her, desired her in ways no one had dared confess. Worse, as he had been pressed against her, she could feel exactly _what _he wanted. Wide-eyed, heart racing, she stared for a moment at his bedchamber door.

Slowly, she peeled herself from the wall she had been thoughtlessly shoved against. More than anything, she detested being cornered, dominated with no avenues of escape. Part of her wanted to elucidate that facet of her personality to Touga. However, a larger part of her rather he realize everything on his own. Perhaps, for no other reason, than she was uncertain how to explain without appearing weak. A prospect she could not abide.

Numbly she began to pack, feeling more forlorn than she had in days. She attempted to calm, to think of nothing, especially not her husband. In her heart, she knew that what he truly yearned for was merely another victory. It was a merciless and overwhelming need, which attacked her resolve, until nearly coaxing a willing surrender.

She knew it would be far easier to simply submit and grant him what he wanted. Offering him what was his in law and right would simplify matters, but would utterly contrast with her very nature. She would deny him victory, for she was not a conquest that could be won.

Smiling slightly, she closed her pain stricken eyes, stealing herself against an aching and ever-growing pang of loneliness. Wishing, not for the first time, she could just go home.


	6. Chapter Six

****

Oyakata: one's master or boss. Attaching -sama garners extra respect to the title. 

Uwagi: the kimono style shirt that is worn by samurai.

Chapter Six:

Standing beneath the wooden archway facing the courtyard Amayami, frowned at the gray, drizzling sky. She hoped, even as she heard the servants scramble behind her with last minute preparations, that the dismal weather would be enough to dissuade Touga from his inane notion of a holiday.

Absentmindedly, she brushed stray raindrops from her breastplate, fighting growing feelings of dread. Worry for, her people, her lands, and most of all her father, pressed heavy upon her soul, a staggering weight that threaten to bring to her knees. And, although she longed to crumble, she did not dare. Thus, she was abandoned to bitter, traitorous longings for foul auguries that could offer understanding to the unseen calamities lurking on the outskirts of her thoughts.

After a moment, discarding any semblance of stoicism, her hands shakily rose to cover her face and she attempted to cast all thoughts from her mind. An impossible feat, for the more she dwelt on nothing, the more she was reminded of everything. Her thoughts chased each other, circling and twisting around, becoming nothing more than an agonizing cacophony.

Shuddering, she closed her eyes and breathed a great, exhausted sigh. Her painfully thin shoulders slumped in defeat and she began to rock back piteously on her heels. Choked sounds that could not quite be called sobs crawled from the slim column of her throat and slipped passed her chattering teeth only to beat themselves silent against her trembling lips. Her throat ached with her effort to muffle the wretched mewling and her eyes stung with tears she was too prideful, or perhaps simply too exhausted, to shed.

She wanted to scream and gnash her teeth in frustration. Abandon all sense of decorum and run shrieking into the rain. The image tore a laugh from her throat, a sharp broken sound that ended with a strangled sob. She recoiled, eyes widening to stare through splayed fingers as if she could not understand how that sound escaped her throat. Stunned silence smothered any further sobs. That such a beaten, defeated sound could have ever come from her was intolerable.

She straightened hastily, pulling herself up to her full, willowy height. Brushing away untidy strands of rain-plastered hair from her cheeks with the back of her hand, she inwardly berated herself for lapsing into something other than the epitome of noble dignity.

With practiced discipline, her porcelain face became unreadable, smoothing into the familiar, haughty and aloof expression for which was both admired and feared. That she was a touch paler than usual, almost ashen, and her whitish-blue eyes were lacking in luster, was of no consequence. No one would care enough to notice.

Her brows knit together, wrinkling the crescent moon on her forehead, as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Lips quirking into a small, sheepish smile, she murmured, "I'm tired." Pushing herself away from the archway, she stepped into the icy drizzle and its promise of sharp wakefulness.

Despite the angry rumble of distant thunder, sunlight had already begun to peek through darkened storm clouds, casting uneven light and scattering shadows. Rain had turned to mist while she had stood watching, but still, cool drops fell from their rest of treetops as she strolled, almost aimlessly, down the wooden walkway that circled the courtyard.

A sudden breeze tugging at her hair and clothing showered her with a myriad of tiny raindrops, which soaked her clothes and left her shivering to her toes. _At least she was no longer weary, shocked awake by the icy cascade. _She stared hard at the wayward drops beading on her well-oiled armor, like tiny-mirrored pearls, before blindly brushing them away.

Freezing mid-gesture, her features darkened as a sudden pain shot through her. Fighting a wave of nausea, she grimaced and sagged imperceptibly, armor biting into her still tender ribs. Suffering through injuries was a staple of her relatively short lifetime. More accurately, she _endured_, for only the weak had the luxury of suffering. Such was the price of war.

Ironically, the more she had endured, the more her father, Takayuki, had suffered in her place. Knowing that she was willing to die for him had brought him no small amount of grief. But Amayami never realized this until it was far too late. Yet, on some level, _she had understood_, for his reasons for silence were undoubtedly akin to her own.

Footsteps echoed, ringing just slightly over the pattering rain, as a guardsman, one she vaguely recognized, strode toward her. He stopped at a short, but still respectful distance from her, and bowed formally. "We are ready to be underway, milady."

Amayami nodded slightly as her eyes glancing briefly into the rain soaked courtyard. Frowning at the guards in the courtyard, at least a dozen, milling about. "How many soldiers are to accompany us?"

"Six as far as the border," the guard reported crisply. Misinterpreting her disapproving frown for one of worry, he took a hasty step forward in an attempt to alleviate her imagined distress. "Worry not Amayami-sama," he reassured, a bit too zealously. "None would dare attack the Inu no Taishou!"

She let one of her eyebrows rise. If Touga had been present, he would have recognized the gesture on as one of polite flippancy. An expression reserved solely for those whose words she thought inane. Her tone bored, but slightly sardonic, she replied, "Oh?"

Understanding the undercurrents of her tone, the guardsman, offered a sheepish grin. It prompted another raised eyebrow and a slight smile from Amayami.

His grin broadened as he bowed foppishly and inquired with all the bravado he could muster. "Shall we be off, Amayami-sama?"

"_We _will not being going anywhere," drawled Touga's deep, resonating voice from behind them.

"Oyakata-sama," the guardsman greeted quickly. Eyes darting worriedly to Amayami, he bowed lowly. Oddly, he thought her expression was bland, calm, as if she feared nothing. Not even the retribution of an outraged husband. He wished he could claim the same. "Forgive me, I should not have presumed--"

"Run along," Touga ordered flatly. The terrible wrath in his eyes, however, did not match his unemotional tone. A rage, that almost reached an explosive intensity when the guard, in a rare display of insolence, hesitated to leave.

Touga's face thinned, curling his upper lip back in warning. His spine straightened and the muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed, until he appeared much larger than he had a moment ago. The guardsman paled at the aggressive stance as his eyes flicked back to Amayami.

She looked pale, lovely, and decidedly unimpressed. As if her husband's dreadful wrath or the threat of his horrible power was nothing out of the ordinary. "You may go," she said, her voice soft with her usual calm.

Despite his pallor, the guardsman managed a crisp bow, not daring to meet either daiyoukai's eyes, and excused himself. He did not need to see Touga to know his Lord's eyes were upon him. Watching as one watches an insect soon to be crushed.

"What is he to you?" Touga more demanded as the guard exited, treating his wife to a soul-withering glare.

Amayami looked at him blankly and wondered if idiocy was something intrinsic to the west. Leaning forward, she tilted her head and whispered in conspiratorial tones, "A guard."

Touga sniffed, attempting to remain indignant, even as a sheepish smile tugged at his lips. "I can imagine what he wanted to guard." His words were clipped and sardonic, but void of true anger.

Smirking, she sidled up to him, peering coyly through the pale bangs wafting around her delicate face. "Oh?" she mouthed softly as she ran her forefinger teasingly down his chest, catching his hastily tied sash with her claws.

Touga found himself watching as she tugged its silken ends, carefully pulling free the lopsided bow until the sash slithered sinuously from his waist. Swallowing hard, he stared as she pulled the rumpled fabric between her slender hands. Entranced, as her fingers, so pale they appeared ghostly, deftly smoothed the wrinkles from the crimson fabric.

His mouth went strangely dry. "Perhaps steal is a better word."

She smirked at his explanation, or perhaps she smirked for the sake of smirking. No more than a slight, half-turn of carefully painted lips, but enough to send warmth coursing through his body. Leaving him to wonder, not for the first time, how anyone could be so exasperatingly chaste, and remain so maddeningly seductive.

An unfamiliar feeling, different from the lust he felt for his concubines, erupted. As she let her slender arms slip deftly around his middle, he felt his pulse race and his muscles jump. Swallowing hard, he let his eyes follow the soft, alabaster curve of her cheek.

Seemingly of their own accord, his hands moved to her shoulders, sliding down her silk clad arms with the gentlest of caresses. It was the only part of her not covered, at least partially, with rigid armor. Tipping his head to sniff delicately at her hair, he breathed in the warm wildness of her essence that wafted beneath the soft, flowery scent of her perfume. Jumbles of chaotic sentences, hasty demands, and almost-pleas crashed through his mind. None of which seemed fitting or even reasonable.

He leaned into her, their armor not allowing him to become as close as would have liked. "I'm sorry," he murmured, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, uncertain for what he was apologizing. "I was…"

They locked eyes for a moment. Although her eyes were serious a faint smirk tugged at her lips. "Stupid."

If it had been anyone else, he would have been outraged. Instead he smiled in reluctant agreement, surreptitiously nodding his head. He was unable defend himself without admitting the unseemly truth.

He had been jealous, nearly driven to the brink of madness at the sight of her speaking cordially to another male. Not just any male, but one well renowned for his flirtatious nature. It mattered little that he knew her to be chaste, innocent, and above all, honorable. Just the thought of her with another was unacceptable.

He slid his hands slid to her wrists and grasped her smaller ones, alarmed to feel their coldness. "Are you well?" he asked, sudden concern filling his eyes. He then frowned when she pulled her hands away, and turned her back to him.

"It was crooked," she said distantly, fighting the urge to hug herself. She was could not bear his closeness. She was naked and invisible in a crowd of faceless strangers; strangers that a month ago, were also mortal enemies. She was alone.

Touga glanced briefly at silken fabric around his waist. He found it properly secured with an expertly tied knot that gave its bow the right amount of heft and allowing the sash's embroidered ends to elegantly flutter freely. He returned his gaze to her as an ironic, '_hn_,' died in her throat.

"I suppose it's understandable," she mused, her finger tapping her chin as she turned around. A smile curled at her rouged lips as her mellowed voice dropped to a near deadpan. It was a tone that managed to sound pointed and infinitely nasty. "Your concubines are far more skilled at removing your clothes than putting them back on."

An uncomfortable silence passed as they stared at each other. Amayami's expression was as blank as Touga's was angry. His nostrils flared and pinpricks of scarlet danced in his eyes. She appeared uninterested, blasé, despite the strange flutter low in her belly.

Tension grew until it was almost tangible, the air around them still and smothering. The only sound was the rhythmic patter of rain and their staggered breaths. Without warning, their bodies crashed into each other. Limbs tangled as their hands flew over heavy armor and tugged desperately at restrictive clothing, seeking flesh.

Frantically Touga's mouth burned against hers. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, gently taking the plump tissue between his teeth. She made a soft, half-grow low in her throat, her tongue slipping into his mouth.

She tasted and explored his mouth with a fierce hunger, daring him to match her frenzy with his own. To her satisfaction he did, cupping the back of her head with one large hand to hold her still for his attentions.

His warm, almost burning fingers crept down her thigh, scalding her through the thin silk of her hakama. Molding his hand against the soft swell of her bottom, he pulled her toward him and lifted her from the ground, inwardly cursing the armor between them.

She latched onto his neck as he lifted her up, nipping and licking at the tender flesh right over his pulse point, until he was barely able to hold back his growl of pleasure at her soft kisses. He did not wish to frighten her off. But then, her small hands wiggled beneath his armor, into his uwagi, and his self-restraint faltered.

Forgetting where he was, where they were, and all pretenses of decorum, his fingers fumbled over the buckles of her armor. If any servants saw them, they either stepped away or pretended not to notice. It mattered little which, for they were paid well for their silence and none was so bold as to reprimand him. None save the woman pressing velvety kisses to his thick eyebrows.

"Touga," she panted huskily against his ear. Planting a desperate line of kisses along his jaw, she suddenly pulled back. Flushed and breathless, she pressed a finger to his lips when he tried to capture her mouth with his again. "Stop."

Touga's mood sank, his ardor slowly cooling as a strange chill settled over his body. He had moved too fast in his desperate desire to have her, like an uncouth youth with no control. And it had frightened her. This was his lady wife, not some cheap harlot. His _virgin_ lady wife. His jaw ached with the effort not to speak, to not beg her to give him another chance. _He would be gentler, softer, more mindful of her delicate sensibilities. He would.. _Nearly scowling at the thought of being reduced to begging his wife for favors that should rightfully be his, he tried to step away. But she held him fast, gasping great, ragged breaths.

She rasped something that even with his sensitive hearing was inaudible.

Her quite voice pricked his conscience. Frowning, he ran a comforting hand over her hair, careful not to snag any tangles the wind had created. His other hand he held lightly around her waist, ready to hold fast if she tried to wiggle free. He was not ready to let her go yet. Swallowing tightly he hoarsely whispered, "I didn't hear," his lips pressing against her temple as he willed his heart to slow.

She swallowed twice before finding her voice, her words coming in little pants against his throat. "Not here" -she shook her head and swallowed the pants- "Not here."

Touga started for a moment, more surprised than he had ever been. _She hadn't been frightened. Hadn't been repulsed. His lady wife… wanted him_. He hugged her fiercely, a roguish grin brightening his features. Lifting her head up to his suddenly, he kissed her, covering her face with quick, tiny pecks, but lingering for a moment on her sweet lips. Dazed with unusual happiness, he grabbed her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. "Let's go."

Eyes hazy, she nodded, slightly confused and more than a little grateful when he, instead of pulling her toward their private chambers, led her to their entourage. She was too relieved, not to mention embarrassed, to question him.

Lifting her by the waist, he set her upon the broad back of strange two-headed reptilian creature. She arranged herself, sitting with dignity of her station, even though a moment ago, her behavior was rather common.

Touga sat behind her, his arm wrapping possessively around her middle. With a wave, he silently signaled the tower watch to open the fortress gates.

From the window of her quarters, Lady Akako watched the Lord and Lady pass through the heavy wooden gates. Scowling as Touga pressed a kiss to Amayami's cheek and buried his nose in her hair.

__

How disgusting! she thought, her thin lips twisting into snarl. Who was this Amayami, that she could waltz in and gain the Inu no Taishou's favor with the barest effort? After she, Akako, had served him with her body and heart for more years than the whelp had been alive.

"Kanyane," she snapped, her voice low so not to be overheard. Having a male, other than the Inu no Taishou, within her chambers was grounds for execution. "You ask me to commit treason."

Kanyane doddered forward, his staff clicking against the wood floor. "Now, my dear," he said with humor in his tone. "What treason could the Lady mother of the Inu no Taishou's heir commit?"

Akako pressed her hand against her flat belly. "That is **if** I am the mother of his heir," she growled, turning on her heel. "If that _bitch_ has her way, I'll be out on the street!"

Kanyane gave a sympathetic nod. "Perhaps," he agreed, almost smiling when she turned around in huff. Sometimes, it was far too easy. "But if she was not here to have her way..."

Akako's eyes grew wide with panic. "I can't fight her-" she shook her head "-she's too strong."

"Oh no, my dearest," Kanyane said with a chuckle. "I would never think to put you in such a distasteful situation."

He stepped forward and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Even now, plans are underway to rid this house of that spurious trollop. And when that happens, there will be need of new Lady wife."

Akako's eyes narrowed, a cruel smile twisting at her lips. "Tell me what I must do."

---

Ryuukossei sat on upon his beaded cushion with his legs crossed. His long, clawed hands picked idly at the stitching. Eyes lowered seemingly to examine the loose cushion threads, he watched through his eyelashes as his guest paced about the small room.

"If you are wasting my time, dragon…" his guest threatened, not for the first time.

Ryuukossei made a small, '_tut_,' sound, nonchalantly folding his hands behind his head. "Now, now I'm beginning to believe you don't trust me, Shigekazu-sama."

Shigekazu's brow rose slightly as he retorted dryly, "You would be correct, then." He turned with a flourish, sweeping his long white hair from his eyes with a clawed hand and frowned. "Your messenger is late."

Tilting his head, the dragon youkai blinked thoughtfully at the midmorning sun. "I do believe you're right," he said mournfully and tossed back a cup of sake. "When he arrives, I shall have him flogged for your amusement."

Shigekazu glowered, but said nothing, once again cursing his spineless brother-in-law for forcing him to deal with unseemly creatures.

She was worth it, he reminded himself. Not only because of what she meant to their people, but because of what she meant to him. She was family, his beloved sister's sole child, and he would never forgive Takayuki for bartering her to the enemy. No matter what the cost, he would retrieve her, even if he had to walk through hell and back.

'Be brave, my dear Amayami. I'm coming for you.'

"What does this Inu no Taishou want?" Shigekazu sneered suddenly. "Gold, land, incense, slaves? What do I have to give him to have my niece returned?"

His voice was angry, but beneath the rage was an undercurrent of desperation. Ryuukossei smiled inwardly as he poured himself another drink. The desperate were always such wonderful playthings, especially when it involved family.

"I think the better question might be," Ryuukossei began, taking a sip from his cup, "What you are willing to give." 

Shigekazu was about to make an angry retort, when someone rapped insistently at the antechamber door. He frowned in disgust as Ryuukossei drained his cup in a single gulp and staggered to his feet. Light spilled into the darkened room as the dragon youkai slid open the door and ushered in a messenger wearing the livery of the western hold.

Shigekazu brushed imaginary lint from his crimson uwagi. He pretended to ignore the messenger, forcing himself to wait in a well-bred fashion even though his soul screamed for answers.

"You are Kanyane's servant?" Ryuukossei asked, although he already knew the answer. "Tell me, why didn't the old dog come himself, eh?"

The messenger looked stricken, but managed to stutter, "I-it's not my place to question his lordship."

Shigekazu rubbed his temple, claws grazing the crescent moon on his brow. "Are all the dogs of the west such sniveling cowards?"

"Yes," Ryuukossei replied, laughter in his voice. "But they pay so very well." He clapped his hands suddenly, startling the messenger. "Come now," he remonstrated as he waved toward his half filled bottle. "As you can see I'm very busy, and my friend" -he jerked his head toward other daiyoukai- "is very impatient. Talk."

Shigekazu's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, his pale white-blue eyes boring into the weasly servant. The boy obviously knew nothing. He had been a fool to waste his time consorting with this drunkard of a dragon.

"It's about Amayami-sama," the messenger stammered, more frightened of Shigekazu, than the dragon now leaning against the wall.

Shigekazu walked a predatory circle around the lesser youkai, his claws clicking together absentmindedly. "What about her?" he asked mildly, as if inquiring about the weather.

"Touga-sama has grown quite possessive of her," he answered, staring solemnly at Shigekazu's booted feet. "And protective."

"Protective," Shigekazu repeated, grimacing as if it were an ugly word. "Explain."

"As you well know, inu youkai are instinctually territorial creatures," Ryuukossei interjected, his tone bland. "But with the Inu no Taishou, that instinct is almost an obsession. Once he desires something to be his, he will stop at nothing to gain control of it."

"And what does he desire now?" Shigekazu asked darkly, almost dreading the answer.

A throaty chuckled passed the dragon's lips. "Let's just say, your niece is a very stubborn young woman."

Shigekazu snorted a humorless laugh and whispered to himself. "She has her mother in her."

"However," Ryuukossei began, pretending not to hear his companion's murmured confession, "He doesn't know what he has."

"Good," Shigekazu responded grimly as he turned to face the dragon. "She'll be safe for a while longer."

"Just out of curiosity," the dragon said, his tone wondering, but eyes deathly serious. "What will you do if the Inu no Taishou refuses to bargain?"

Shigekazu's eyes fluttered shut. A moment later he slowly opened them, his lips thinning to a frown. "Kill him."


	7. Chapter Seven

****

Chapter Seven

"You know what you're to do?" Ryuukossei asked softly, his sensual voice thickened by tepid drizzle, turning the question into a veiled caress. It was vague and so ominous that Daisuke would have believed the menace to be imagined were it not for the dragon staring down at him with lazy burgundy eyes.

"Get the girl," Daisuke grunted, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Kill the escort.

Ryuukossei's gaze lingered on the campfire for a moment. Watching with grim fascination as the feeble flames crackled and snapped in the drizzling rain, he folded his arms into his sleeves. "Remember, Daisuke," he warned as he leaned slightly forward, "I want her undamaged."

Daisuke snorted a laugh. "All this for a woman? She must be a pretty piece of ass."

Cocking his head sideways, Ryuukossei peered at Daisuke, as if the larger man's off color remark had been profoundly interesting. His lips twisted into an almost smirk. "Quite."

There was something sinister about the dragon's tone. Little more than a murmur, one that promised foul deeds as it lurked within purring syllables. Words filled with such foreboding that Daisuke nearly reconsidered their arrangement. An idea, no more than a fleeting notion, he crushed ruthlessly. No matter how much his instincts might rebel, there was no recourse but to move forward.

He snorted, feigning disinterest. His mannerisms were evasive and his tone carelessly prodded. It was all too obvious he was unused to playing games. "So you want her for yourself"

"Oh no, no, no," the dragon admonished, clasping his hands to his chest and lowering his voice to a placating whisper. "I want her for the good of my patron."

Glowering, Daisuke huffed and abandoned all pretense of subterfuge. "Just make sure I'm paid."

"Ah, a pure mercenary are we?" The dragon's eyes glittered at the snappish tone. Then just as quickly the humor faded, as if it never existed, and his eyes hardened in warning. "We have an agreement, one whose terms it behooves you to oblige."

Daisuke's expression darkened, but he said nothing. Lately he had grown accustomed to taking orders from superior youkai, as well as giving them to lesser. Such matters were his lot in life, at least for the time being.

Then without a further word, the dragon melted into the forest. Disappearing so utterly that there was nothing to prove he had ever even existed. Save for Daisuke's recollection and Daisuke spared little time with contemplation. Instead, he ordered his men to ride.

They were a ragtag band of outcast youkai. In another setting, lost in the not so distant past, they would have been stalwart soldiers and loyal vassals. Now they were little more than reluctant brigands and sullen vagrants. Scrambling to douse fires, they saddled horses as their women offered worried farewells.

None dared to complain, not even mildly, for Daisuke was a harsh master and did not suffer dissent. Only Keiji, riding beside him as usual, had the audacity to protest.

"Daisuke-sama," he began in obvious distaste. "This dragon-" he jabbed a thumb toward where the dragon had been standing and scowled. "I don't trust him."

"Neither do I." Daisuke sighed and covered his eyes with one hand. Grinding his teeth as if he meant to swallow the grim thoughts pervading his mind, Daisuke peered at the older youkai through splayed fingers. "Keiji, you are free to leave my company any time you wish."

Keiji steeled himself and shook his head. His dark hair was tussled from sleeping on the hard ground, but his green eyes were fierce. "Yes," he said softly, but firmly. _I promised your father_, he wanted to say. "What is a vassal without a lord?"

What's a lord without a house? Daisuke's thoughts countered Keiji's words, grim memories welling inside his soul. Images of hellish flame, putrid smoke, and broken bodies assailed his mind. A cacophony of roaring fire and broken screams while his father, his broken and wounded father, begged everyone to run, to flee, as he held back the invaders.

History would dub the invasion a preemptive strike; conveniently forgetting that the crushed territory had been guilty of nothing save for existing within a strategic locale. Sometimes Daisuke wondered bitterly why annihilation was preferable to negotiation.

He closed his eyes, shutting off his mind from turbulent memories and willing his thoughts to focus on what was truly important. He would restore his house, find his sisters, and then this nightmare would be forgotten. "Go or stay," he ordered curtly, then gentled his tone, "The choice is yours."

Not waiting for an answer, Daisuke spurred his horse across the muddy plains and toward the dense woods in the distance. Expectedly, Keiji muttered a curse and kept pace with his young, disposed lord, seething all the while.

Amayami perched in her saddle, shivering visibly as icy rain dribbled from her long hair and down inside her armor. Nearly an hour had passed since their escort had departed at the border. This left Touga, and his wandering hands, as her sole ally in a dangerously unstable territory.

She stiffened as he leaned into her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his lips to the hollow of her throat. His breath was warm and apologetic against her ear. "I should have brought the carriage."

She could feel his eyes, darkened amber with obvious desire, following the soft line of her neck and the tender curve of her breast. Staring at her with a gaze so heated, she almost believed he could undress her by will alone.

He lowered his head slightly to catch the lapel of her kosode between his teeth, causing the embroidered fabric to gape open a bit. Gripping the reins tightly, he commanded the pack animal to slow its frenetic pace to a leisurely gait and eventual stop before dropping them entirely.

Amayami looked back at him quizzically, attempting to ignore his advances. She was completely unaware that her lack of reaction only encouraged him further. If she had fallen into his arms, as many women before her had done, he would have taken what was his and been done with her. Unfortunately, she was too headstrong or too prideful or perhaps simply too naïve to understand that it was her resistance that made her utterly enticing.

"He needs to rest for while," Touga explained. His fingers brushed her hair, clumped and unlovely from the rain, away from the back of her neck. He pressed a kiss there, and then one to the space behind her pointed ear.

Amayami frowned and slid down from the saddle, her small feet sinking slightly into the muddied ground. She walked in a wide circle, purposely avoiding Touga's embrace, to gain a closer look at the creature.

Its heads were nodding, twin necks nearly sagging to the ground as its knees bent to lie on the ground. Amayami smiled faintly and ran her fingers through the beast's shaggy mane.

"What is he?" she asked, stifling a chuckle as one of the creature's heads lifted up to snuffle at her.

Touga almost smiled when the beast craned its second neck in her direction as the first one also vied heavily for her attention. She petted both heads in kind, pausing for a moment to scratch behind both sets of ears.

His lips twitched, feeling slightly envious as he watched her dote on the creature. _He's a lucky bastard. _"A pseudo-dragon crossbred with a oni horse," he answered in a matter of fact tone of voice.

She nodded, petting each head with affection, and then frowned thoughtfully. "It has two heads."

Touga smiled sheepishly and lightly tapped the creature's flank in a silent command to settle. "That, my lady," he began, becoming strangely befuddled as he met her gaze, "is something I cannot explain."

His words earned him a shy smile that broadened until tiny dimples appeared on her cheeks. Shallow, too rarely seen valleys that he, in a moment of absolute insanity, wished he could live forever.

His mouth was dry, too dry to speak, and he knew without looking his face was flushed. He simply stood there, enraptured and staring at her, as the thunder rumbled in the distance.

The undisguised lust in his gaze was enough to make Amayami shiver. She paled as her eyes, once serious and sinking, became scared and suspicious. Her expression shifted to its customarily pleasant, unreadable blankness, until she was protected through inapproachability.

Her stoic veneer began to waver, her walls crumbling from within. Dignity left her with only two recourses, to withdraw or to falter, and both were shades of defeat. A bit too quickly -not fast enough- she spun on her heel and pretended to be infinitely fascinated with the dragon. Piteously attempting to ignore Touga, the world, while the pang of loneliness was welling within her heart.

Strong hands fell to her hips, firm fingers gripped her armor and pulled her away from the dragon. She resisted as he turned her, heels digging into the mud. Touga hauled her against him, armor scraping armor as he kissed her hard. All his earlier tenderness, the concessions for her innocence, seemed to be forgotten. His hands roamed up her back, tangling in her hair as she stiffened and made faint protesting sounds low in her throat.

Torn between desire and confusion, she stilled beneath his scalding kisses and demanding hands. She refused to react as he moved his lips over the soft curve of her jaw, licking slow, heated lines before scraping his fangs gently over her tender flesh. His breath was warm in her ear as he whispered nonsensical flatteries; how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her. Endearments that were meant to entice only served to heighten her anxiety.

Her hands came up preventively between them, careless of the sharp spikes decorating their armor. Touga swallowed her protest with a hungry kiss and backed her into the dozing dragon. Mouth sealed over hers, he thrust his leg between her thighs, pressing against her as he lifted her to her tiptoes.

Amayami growled against his mouth, anger quickly replacing unease. Furious, not because of the liberties he took, but because she enjoyed them.

He broke the kiss suddenly, hands slipping from her hair, and touched his finger to her lips. Pressing gently, he parted her lips, his claw scraping her teeth as he pushed his finger into her mouth.

Her eyes locked with his and she experimentally licked the length of his finger. Tongue curling over the sensitive tip, she caught it between her teeth, her lips closing over the second knuckle before sucking gently.

As she began to suck harder, his breathing grew ragged until it became nothing more than muffled pants and smothered growls. Frantically, his free hand went to her hip as he pushed his leg higher, shifting her until their hips met. She was completely off balance and their armor made the position awkward, but regardless he clung to her almost desperately.

Touga tugged at the leather straps binding her armor, hands too frantic to worry with buckles. She bit him suddenly, hard enough to draw blood, inciting an involuntary hiss as he tried to jerk his hand away. But her grip was firm and she nursed the tiny wounds she made with her tongue before nipping at him again.

"Don't," Amayami said, sucking lightly before giving his finger a long parting lick, "ruin my armor."

The look in her eyes was almost enough to make him rethink ever referring to her as _innocent_. He stared hard, entranced by the smear of crimson on her lips. _His blood. _It screamed against her pallor, like a wanton splash of desire.

He licked her chin, and then kissed her hard enough that he felt her fangs. "I buy your armor," he growled into her mouth, his fingers curling under its polished surface. "I can do with it what I wish."

As the words left his mouth, he knew he had misspoken. Inwardly he cursed himself for reaffirming his intrinsic idiocy. Yet even as he mulled over his words, a thread of relief wove itself into his being. He sighed, a sound much like a growl, and realized his lapse was likely for the best.

He was not so uncouth as to rut with her on the muddied ground nor did he wish to take her violently. If matters had continued as they had, he was uncertain if he could have prevented either. Reluctantly he lowered her to the ground, withdrawing his knee when he was certain she stood steady on her feet.

Her eyes were blank, her expression blanker still, but it was the calm before the storm. He could feel her anger simmering just below the surface. Brusquely he spun on his heel, the edges of his rain soaked pelt striking her legs as he turned. He longed to say something, anything that would soften his words, but remained silent. His words were true; he did buy the armor, and thus much like the woman it protected, it did belong to him. His property to do with as he saw fit.

However, that piece of infallible logic was unable to explain his sudden uncertainty. It left him no room to consider his inability to watch the rain roll tear-like down her pale cheeks.

Behind him there was a sudden, muffled clatter, the sound of something heavy, not fallen, but thrown to the ground. It landed hard enough that his legs and ankles were sprayed with a thin shower of mud and water. Slowly, his eyes slid shut as he realized exactly what she had thrown. After all, it fit completely with her obstinate personality.

He turned on his heel and scowled at the armor lying in an inelegant heap at his feet. His scowl deepened as he prodded the discarded bundle lightly with his toe. Once again, he found himself torn between throttling her and kissing her senseless.

"Pick it up," he said softly and with the barest hint of anger. "Now."

Amayami raked a hand through her damp hair, a faint smirk on her lips. "It is yours to do with as you wish."

The smile that touched Touga's lips was wicked and almost cruel. He knew she was mocking him, twisting his words and actions to suit her whim. There was a challenge within her sardonic tones. One he would acknowledge.

Shoving her back against the dragon, he kissed her mercilessly, hard enough to break skin and draw blood. His hands moved up her back, his armor digging into her breasts as he fitted her against him. "As are you," he rasped in her ear. "My dear wife."

Touga steeled himself for her silent rage or perhaps a taste of her poisoned claws. Undoubtedly, a contemptuous smirk would have preceded both, as would the lashings of her mordant tongue. He expected to be riled by her usual willful, almost scathing retort.

Only to be stupefied when she pressed trembling lips against his brow. Almost of their own accord, his arms loosened, sliding down her spine to circle her tiny waist. He tangled a hand in her hair and pulled her close. All his thoughts of petty dominance fled as droplets, too warm to be rain, trembled down her cheeks.

Amayami's arms fell limply to her sides as he pressed soft kisses to her cheeks and forehead. She sagged against him, allowing him to wrap his arms fully around her. She was uncertain as he clutched at her, his hands digging into the silk of her kosode, exactly who was comforting whom.

For a moment she stood still in the circle of his arms, listening to the nonsense words he whispered into her hair. She stiffened, glowering at the pity tinged phrases. Growing more infuriated with each passing second. Amayami would suffer many things, but never something as lowly as pity.

"I belong to no one," she hissed, clicking her delicate seeming claws. "My dear husband."

Touga smiled, a slow, lazy grin that did not reach his eyes. Suddenly he lunged, reaching for her malevolently glowing hand, heedless that he was in the very real danger of making the same mistake twice. His hand closed in a bone-crushing grip, which, much to his surprise, caught nothing but air. She was simply gone, having moved faster than he could follow.

A split second later a sharp, stinging pain erupted through his left arm. Eyes narrowing, he glanced down and found himself bleeding from claw marks marring his bicep. The wound burned cold, numbing his arm, as her poison worked its way through his system.

"Oh, Inu no Taishou," she mock pouted, "you never cease to disappoint."

He spun in the direction of her voice, trying in vain to keep his composure. "I could kill you for this," he growled, gesturing to the growing stain of crimson on his sleeve.

Eyes on him, Amayami lifted her bloodied hand to her lips. She sucked each finger sensuously, her tongue flattening as it licked in smooth, wet lines. "You could try," she agreed, pausing to suck the end of her claw. "But it's just so-"

"Ordinary," Touga finished gruffly, guessing at her words. His fingers curled into fists, claws biting into his palms as he took a calming breath. Her actions, while they did anger him, also further inflamed him. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to drag her down the ground and-

Amayami chuckled, mistaking his mannerisms for fury, and took a gliding step toward him. Smirking, she leaned forward to trail a faintly glowing claw across his chest.

His armor sizzled and popped, spewing pungent fumes as it slowly melted. Smoke wafted through the air, creating a billowing veil between them.

"Boring," she whispered, half to herself, caught unawares by the strange gleam in his eyes.

She swallowed hard, her mind backpedaling as the bottom section of his armor snapped like a worn hinge and fell to the ground in a smoldering heap. Her breath hitched, but not from fear as she followed his gaze to the armor at his feet.

He breathed deeply, nostrils flaring as he exhaled, and kicked the armor hard enough that it flopped over. Grumbling, he realized his armor was ruined beyond repair.

Amayami stepped back and turned, starting back towards the dragon. His hand snagged her elbow, whipping her around, before she managed to take a single step. His sheer size had never been more evident as he scowled down at her, amber eyes darkening in a face stretched thin with desire.

He jerked her to him, wrapping his uninjured arm around her waist and sealed his mouth over hers. He kissed her hard, lips and tongue manipulating her mouth as his free hand peeled her kosode off one shoulder. His lips abandoned hers to press kisses down the side of her throat, creating red marks across her flesh.

He licked a long, warm line from her collarbone to the curve of her shoulder before lifting his head. "You ruined my armor."

Amayami raised a single brow as her lips thinned to a forbidding frown. "I buy your armor," she mocked as her claws sliced through the armor's pivotal support straps.

Touga winced as the rest of his armor clattered to the ground, but could not bring himself to be angry. Not when her eyes were positively beaming at him.

He kissed her again, this time with all the gentleness he could muster, occupying her attention as his hands discreetly fiddled with her obi ties. After a moment, his hands slipped into her parted kosode. His palms were callused and scratchy, but not unpleasant as they smoothed along her stomach and up her sides.

Sounds, no more than muffled gasps, bubbled pass her lips as she arched into him. He was either trying to kill her or drive her insane. It mattered little as to which for she was quite certain it was both.

She whimpered in protest, not caring that such pathetic sound came from her. Confusion tainted desire welled within her, casting her thoughts into turmoil.

She wanted him, wanted him to the point where she almost needed him. Yielding to him, granting him what was his by right was tantamount to defeat. "Touga," she rasped, voice tearful and thick.

With no small amount of reluctance, Touga ceased his soft kisses and gentle caresses. His hands slid down her sides, lingering for a moment over her curves, and fell to her hips. He was reluctant to withdraw from her entirely. Instead, he simply tilted his head back, offering the illusion of a withdrawal and watched, waiting to see if she would protest again.

Her eyes were tightly closed, brows knitted as if in pain. Touga paused, unsure and concerned, wondering if he had inadvertently harmed her. He did not believe so, but there were times she seemed as delicate as she was powerful.

Her eyes opened slowly, much to his relief, and were filled with a strange sort of certainty. Trembling, she pulled herself against him, clinging as if he were the last safe, sane thing in the world. "Don't stop," she whispered, pressing her lips firmly against his.

His lips were oddly still and unresponsive beneath hers. She kissed him again, tongue flicking over his lips as her hands slid down his body. Touching him where she had learned in their brief encounters that he liked to be touched.

A shudder ran through him as he shook his head. Ignoring his longing as he gently pushed her away and held her at arms length. No matter how much he wanted her, he knew, if he took her now, she would only hate him. "This isn't what you want," he said a bit more brusque than he intended.

Amayami flinched as if he struck her, but recovered quickly. "Since when do my wishes matter?" Her retort was flat, almost cold, despite the glimmer of hurt in her eyes.

Touga sighed, his resolve nearly faltering. He wanted to tell her _always_, but could not bring himself to lie. Instead he said nothing, merely turned on his heel. For a moment they stood in silence, and then he spared her a cold glance over his shoulder. "We're going."

Amayami glared daggers into his back as he gathered their discarded armor. Anger, confusion, and pain wove through her, each emotion more agonizing than the last. She breathed deep, trying to calm herself as she pulled her kosode closed and retied her obi.

Caught somewhere between fury and mortification, she stalked towards the dragon. Eyes forward but averted, she was purposely avoiding her husband's gaze. Feather-light fingers touched her face, tracing one of the crimson stripes on her cheek.

Touga's arm slipped around her shoulders. "Amayami," he murmured, burying his face in her hair. "I want to-"

What he wanted was never said, for action spoke before words and his mouth crushed down hard and hot against hers. His skin was warm through his soaked clothing, and as he pushed her up against the dragon, she felt the hardness of his body melding against hers.

Expecting his passion to intensify, Amayami was surprised when his mouth softened and nibbled softly at hers. His hand gently caressed her cheek and tucked a stray lock behind her ear.

"You're unlike anyone I've ever known," he murmured, inches from her face. "One moment you've made me so furious I want to kill you, and then the next.."

His lips found hers again, and this time hers parted of their own accord. For a moment, he hesitated, then his tongue slipped into her mouth. She moaned low in her throat, clinging to him as his hands slid down to cup her bottom, lifting her slightly from the ground.

He pulled his lips from hers and set her in the saddle. "'Maya," he said thickly, pressing a finger to her lips to silence her protests. "I want to do right by you."

Hand cupping his chin, she looked him thoughtfully in the eye. "It's rather late to make amends."

His soft laugh held no humor. "Perhaps, but there is no harm in trying."

Amayami looked away as he climbed up behind her, feeling an odd sort of shame. "Why do you call me that?" she snapped, hunching her shoulders in annoyance.

Touga leaned forward to retrieve the reins. "Call you what?" His brows lifted to his hairline and his lips rounded into an imperfect circle. He shrugged. "Why do you call me Inu no Taishou?"

Amayami gave him a dry, over the shoulder look. "Because you're an ass."

Touga jerked the reins once in silent command for the dragon to continue its journey. He grinned, flashing his glittering fangs. "That, my dear Lady, is your answer."

Amayami gaped at him, and then straightened her back, fuming. She could feel his chest rumbling against her back and knew he was laughing at her. He made a sharp nonsense sound, which only the dragon seemed to understand.

The creature lurched forward, slightly jostling her, and gradually gained speed. As the ground streaked by beneath them, Amayami glowered, even as a smile tugged at her lips.


	8. Chapter Eight

****

Chapter Eight:

A downpour was coming.

The churning clouds of a storm approaching from the west made a dark and ominous streak across the horizon. Flashes of lightning lit the sky, echoed within a breath's wait by thunder.

Daisuke leaned against a tree, sniffing the light breeze sailing through his hair and clothes. He cast an anxious glance to tiny manor, all but hidden within the shadows of the mountains.

"You look pensive," remarked Keiji in an oddly cheerful tone. "Is it possible that you've reconsidered this foolishness?"

Daisuke snorted, even as his heart pounded, and tucked his trembling hands into he sleeves. Bubbles of disgust churned within his belly. A bitter revulsion that stemmed, not from the notion he might reconsider, but rather that he had even entertained the option.

Worse are the late night memories, existing within the space between wakefulness and dreaming. There he is haunted with after images of soldiers, flames… and blood. There had been _so much _blood: in thick puddles beneath his feet, splattered upon the walls, seeping from his father's many wounds…

It is then, in that ever-dimming recollection, that his mind turns traitor. _You left her and now she's dead. You let your sister die._

He had not been able search for her until the morning after the attack. And then, even though he had dug through soot and charred timbers until his hands were bruised and bloodied, he found no sign of her. Not even a single strand of her violet hair. They had burned everything that was important to him down to ashes. 

Under his sleeves, his fingers dug into the flesh of his upper arms, bruising. "No, I haven't reconsidered."

Keiji sighed. "I thought as much." He paused, and then gave a slight shrug. "After all, you do seem bound and determined to have your head on a pike come summer's end."

Daisuke cocked his head to one side, smirking. "You worry too much."

"And you worry too little," Keiji countered, jabbing a finger in the air toward Daisuke for good measure.

Daisuke snorted a bitter laugh. "You mean, I don't worry enough about myself."

He peered up at the storm-darkened sky, thoughts chasing across his face like shadows. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to think rationally," Keiji said, fingering the dagger tucked in his sash. It was a beautiful weapon. Well honed and trimmed in jade, it had slain many a peach.

Strange, how sticky his hands felt at that moment. As if they were already drenched in blood.

"There is still-" _time to turn back_, he almost said, but then amended quickly with, "a matter to consider. Your men are competent, but what you ask goes far beyond anything they have ever done."

Daisuke grimaced at sudden ache in the hollow of his chest. "I know," he murmured. "But I have to find Umeko."

"You little fool!" Keiji hissed. "What good will you do your sister dead?"

In echo to his sentiment, the wind gusted, shaking leaves from the trees. Beneath the scent of coming rain was that of inu daiyoukai. Much to his relief, they were still a distance away.

"What good am I doing her alive?" Daisuke sighed, unaware that he spoke aloud, and raked a hand through his tussled hair. As the moments passed between them, each tenser than the last, the air seemed to thicken with rain that refused to fall.

Daisuke brought his hand to his mouth, chewing at a jagged piece of his thumbnail. "You underestimate me," he growled, spitting out the piece of shredded nail.

Keiji ignored the accusation, for nothing he could say would convince his young master otherwise. Instead he steered his efforts to a more pressing issue. "What of the girl?"

Daisuke wiped spittle from his chin with the back of his hand. "What about her?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Keiji released a lingering sigh. "The creature you bargain with can't be trusted," he reminded Daisuke in stern tone. "You said so yourself."

Not daring to look his friend in the eye, Daisuke pushed away from the tree. His gaze swept over his men, and then down at the manor in the distance. Dread crept into his heart, and with it, an unwanted shred of doubt.

"I don't want to do this," he whispered. "But I have-" _no choice-_ "I have to save Umeko. No matter what it takes."

Just then, thunder tore through the sky, shaking the trees above them. Keiji's expression grew grave, lips twisting into frown, and his eyes hardened. After a moment, he shook his head, features softening once more. "I see."

Daisuke flinched at dour tone, but refused to waver. Instead his eyes brightened and he managed a weak smile. "You don't have to come along."

Crossing his arms over his chest, he tried to still his trembling hands. Although he was pretending otherwise, the prospect that Keiji might leave his side filled him with no small amount of dread.

Feigning nonchalance, he rocked back on his heels and lifted his shoulders into careless shrug before glancing back at Keiji. "Maybe it would be better if you didn't," he said, lowering his shoulders. Smirking at Keiji's dubious expression, he added, "seeing how you're old and all."

"Old?" Keiji questioned, clearly insulted. He straightened to his full height and stuck out his chin, but not before smoothing a hand down his tattered clothes. "I'll have you know that I'm barely five centuries."

Daisuke almost laughed outright at the sheer indignity held within the sour tone. Instead, he merely lifted his eyebrows and returned Keiji's unfriendly glare with a grin.

"My age," Keiji began in tone that brooked no argument, "is between me and the spirits."

"And Naoko-hime," Daisuke added, still grinning. "Who, just so happens to be half your age."

Keiji narrowed his fierce gaze, scowling. Naoko was just another link in his long chain of mistresses. She was a passing fancy, no more special than the last and possibly less interesting than the next. There was no reason to feel the keen bite of her absence as he did.

He gave himself a mental shake. This was not the time to think of such matters. "Don't speak of her."

"All right," Daisuke mused, tapping his chin, oblivious that he mocked a delicate subject. "Then how about the herdsman's daughter. I think her name was-"

"Hana," Keiji answered stiffly, ignoring Daisuke's triumphant grin. "And I know what you're trying to do.

Daisuke shuffled his feet as his grin faded into soft, sad smile. "What?" he questioned, looking away from Keiji's gaze to stare at the ground. "Besides convince you to stay?"

His entire frame became so tense it trembled. He shook until he heard nothing, save the chatter of his teeth the pounding of his heart. Now, more than ever, he was terrified.

Warm hands clasped his shoulders in gesture that was almost fatherly. Keiji gripped his shoulders, just slightly, and took a deep breath.

"Before you were born," he began in tone that was as enigmatic as it was kind. "Your father asked me to watch over you."

"My father's dead," Daisuke reminded, voice strained. "His promises don't mean anything now."

Keiji made a derisive sound, low in the throat, and pulled away. "I suppose," he agreed, peering sidelong at their men. Vaguely, he wondered just how long they had been listening.

"Kiyoshi-sama's promises may no longer hold weight in this world, but mine still do."

Daisuke gave a pointed exhale as a crooked smile spread across his face. Gratitude-tinged relief filled his being, and with it, a sudden burst of confidence. He should have known that Keiji would never abandon him.

"When this is over, we'll go north," Daisuke said, calm as he took a deep breath of humid air. "Aunt Sorano will be happy to see me."

Thunder rumbled overhead. Managing a slight smile, Keiji said, "I'll make certain she gives you a good scolding and sound whipping."

Daisuke chuckled, flashing a toothy grin. "And I'll make certain to introduce Naoko-hime to Hana _and _Sachiko."

This time, instead of the expected annoyance, Keiji responded with worried eyes set in grim features.

"I'm sorry," Daisuke stammered, averting his gaze. "I should-"

"You should be planning how we are going to defeat, not one, but two daiyoukai," Keiji finished, frowning forbiddingly. "And I doubt very seriously that the girl will come willingly."

"Oh, that's easy," Daisuke quipped with sudden smugness. "I have plan."

---

An hour away from the manor and soaked to the skin, Touga once again cursed himself for not preparing the carriage. The reason he had not, of course, was his young wife, sitting before him.

Amayami hated anything that made her feel trapped and barred in. As of late, he had begun to realize, that included their marriage. Such knowledge did little to alleviate his want for her.

He wound one arm around her waist, strands of her damp hair tickling his nose as he inhaled her scent. Tempting, vexatious little imp.

Amayami twisted around in the saddle, oblivious to her husband's attentions as she surveyed the landscape around her. Sudden feelings of nostalgia stirred within her at the sight of the great, towering trees lining the road. They were lush and green with branches that seemed to scrape the sky.

Her thoughts turned inward as she recalled a time when such trees had blanketed her father's land in abundance. Once, such trees were considered the pride of The Eastern Providence. Standing as the eternal symbol of peace and unity.

Now there was little left of them, save hacked stumps and rotting timbers. All that they were, all that they represented, was carved and hewn into failed machines of war. _Such an unforgivable waste._

She supposed it was foolish, perhaps even callous, to mourn the loss of few thousand trees. Lives were infinitely more important than trees, but that did not make their destruction any less unbearable.

"We're nearly there," Touga consoled, mistaking her sudden despondency for fatigue.

She felt his palm slide over her stomach, fingers splaying possessively across her hip, and stiffen, lifting her shoulders to avoid him when he tried to kiss her throat.

Tugging once at the reins, Touga slowed their mount to a leisurely gait, and then knotted the leather cords around the saddle horn. Sighing, he laid his chin on the top of her head and circled both arms around her middle, squeezing. "What's wrong?"

Amayami radiated anger but her held tongue, choosing instead to brood in silence. At any other time, he would have considered her silence a small mercy, but now it was worrisome.

Whispering soft endearments, he pulled her against him, and listened as she drew little hissing breaths. After a moment, he realized they were actually strangled sobs. "You were fine earlier," he reminded. Wishing, as her silence grew, that he could amend his words to sound less like an accusation. He tried a gentler, "Tell me."

Craning her neck, she gave him a watered down smile. "It's nothing."

Touga frowned at the darkening horizon and the storm-laden wind at their backs. He combed his hand over her hair, peeling the rain-plastered strands from her cheeks. Part of him wanted to let the matter rest, even as the niche she had carved in his heart ached to comfort her.

"I don't know if telepathy is one of your gifts," he prodded, voice light with teasing, "but it's not one of mine."

Her brow arched. "The world is indeed thankful."

He had to smile. The haughty expression and the sardonic tone, both were so his Amayami. Still, he was not about to let her off the hook so easily. Cupping her chin, he looked her sternly in the eye. "Well, let's hear it."

Touga stared at her upturned face, watching as a miniscule smile tugged at her lips. She leaned back against him, sighing as the tension ebbed from her body.

"It's nothing," she insisted, growing limp in his arms. All the fight within her had vanished, and now she was left too exhausted to become infuriated about how wonderful his arms felt around her.

"Nonsense." Touga frowned forbiddingly. "You're being foolish."

She stiffened again, and he could practically feel the walls thickening between them. "Foolish," she repeated, glaring at him as best she could out of the corner of her eye, not wanting to move out of her comfortable position to turn her head.

His lips twitched in amusement. "And deaf, it would seem."

Whether it was his intent or not, his words were a near perfect mimicry of her dryer, more sardonic tones, and enough to spark her anger anew.

"You," she spat, eyes flashing with anger, "are a rutting, disgusting- Dog!"

Touga had to laugh. Amayami could slight his kith, kin, and clan with a passing mention that the sky was blue, but tended to falter with baser insults.

"Is that the best you can do?" he choked, laughter wracking his body.

"Oh, I have not even begun," she seethed. Anger flickered around the edges of her face, twisting her crimson stripes. "You think the world belongs to you and will destroy anything you can't have."

His laughter lumped in his throat, feeling like bits of broken pottery as he swallowed it down. Face twisting into a mask of rage, he snatched up the reins and gave them a vicious jerk.

Amayami swiped at his hands, claws nicking the tops of his wrists, as he roughly tugged again, commanding the pack beast to stop. She threw off Touga's arms and slipped from the saddle.

"Don't take your anger at me out on him," she demanded, glaring as Touga swung down from the saddle to join her on the ground.

He seemed stretched thin with rage as he stalked towards her, fists balled at his sides. "If I was just angry with you," he growled, eyes gleaming, "my life would be so much simpler."

He wrest her away from the dragon, causing her to stumble, and dragged her against him. Then, before she could utter a single scathing word, he crashed his lips against hers.

His hands were on her waist, pulling her into him. One hand slid up her back, warm and burning through her soaked kosode, and the other gripped her hip, his claws just pricking her skin. Touga scraped hot kisses against her throat, leaving angry, red marks, and swirled his tongue over the shell of her ear. He kissed and bit along her neck and shoulder, tearing at her kosode away with one hand.

His mouth sought hers again and she growled something hard and angry, scraping her fangs against his crushing lips. Back arching as he roughly dragged his hands down her body, she did not resist as his thumbs hooked into the waist of her hakama.

She flung her arms around her neck, pulling him down, and returned his kiss with a violent one of her own. An involuntary shudder of pure desire arced through her, and with it, a thread of guilt. After all he had done to her people, this was more than simply wrong; it was a betrayal.

Amayami tensed and tore her mouth from his. "No!"

She thrashed, twisted, and wrenched herself from his arms, stumbling backwards on the uneven ground. Growling low in his throat, Touga glared at her with eyes gone amber-dark with desire. "Bitch."

Her countenance grew cold, anger glittering in her pale irises. She snorted at his insult and turned on her heel, hands trembling as she shouldered back into her kosode.

She could feel his anger like a weighted presence at her back. The rumble of his barely contained growls echoed in time with her shuddering breaths. Suddenly, his hands gripped her waist, pulling her backward, one slinking up to cup her breast and the other snaking down between her legs. His fingers curled and pressed down, gentle, but too intrusive to be construed accident.

Amayami bit back a cry, resisting the urge to clamp her thighs around his intruding hand. Her bones turned to water, and she looped an arm behind her, around his neck to keep from falling to the ground.

She growled, mouth gone too dry to form words. All thoughts of hate and betrayal were swept from her mind as his lips brushed softly down her neck. Her growls became whimpers, blending with her ragged gasps, and then soft moans. The feel of his hand moving so gently against her was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Small spasms of pleasure unfurled inside her, one after the other, each growing in strength. She was on the brink of something frightening and amazing. She grasped the end of his ponytail, fisting its length around her slender hand, and pulled him down to meet her lips.

Touga grunted something noncommittal, gently squeezing her breast. He loved that it was small and seemed to fit perfectly in his hand. Capturing her lips, he kissed her soundly, slowing changing the exaggerated gentleness of his fingers faded to the firm urgent pressure her movements told him she wanted.

As she craned her neck, crying out, struggling in his arms, not to get away, but to face him, a sense of smugness filled him. She no longer held the advantage.

With a vicious growl, he flung her forward, sending her scuttling to keep her balance. Only her supernatural agility kept her from falling to the ground. Face flushed with desire, she pivoted on her heel, glaring at him with accusing eyes.

A self-satisfied smile curled at his lips. "You want me," he accused. "You want me as much as I want you." He took an angry step forward, eyes blazing. "Admit it!"

Strands of her hair stood on end, floating around her trembling frame as her youki crackled around her. She never seemed more unreal or more dangerous. "Yes!" she shrieked, her fists balled at her sides and her entire body an exclamation of fury. "Are you satisfied now?"

His eyes widened, surprised that she would ever admit her desire or anything else that could be construed as a weakness.

"Then why-" he paused thoughtfully, and then chuckled, shaking his head "-Oh, I see. The concubines," he said nastily. "I knew it was too much to hope that you would have the honor to respect my wishes."

Amayami raised a disdainful brow. "I'd have to respect _you_ first." She exhaled and spared a lingering glance at her shoes. "Just leave me alone."

"By rights I should," he fumed. "I should cast you aside and-"

"And do what?" she snapped. Her voice was low and her eyes hollow, haunted. "You've already destroyed my home and exiled my father and slaughtered my people. What more could you possibly do to me?"

Touga tightened his jaw and looked skyward for a moment. He thought of the human and youkai settlements he had set ablaze without a second thought and refused to feel guilty. "Enough. It is not within your rights to question me."

"Enough?" she snarled. "Where was _enough_ when you were destroying a people that were of no threat to you?" Her face twisted into a mask of rage. "And for what? A stretch of land!"

He wanted to tell her of his lofty goals and all the good he planned to do with his acquired territories. The dog clans were now united, even if only tentatively for now, and soon his influence would spread to the wolves. He wanted to convince her that they were stronger as allies than enemies. And most of all, he wanted her to stop glaring at him with hate filled eyes.

He said nothing of what he wanted, simply whispering in a voice so hoarse and soft that were it not for her keen hearing, she never would have heard. "Yes, land. My land."

"Well, it's all yours now," she stated sardonically. "May it bury you."

Stunned, Touga stared as she strode on rubbery legs to the dragon. He watched as she smiled warmly and pet the creature's snouts before reaching for the reins, giving it all the gentleness she hid from him.

"Ichi, Ni, come," she called. Clucking her tongue, she lightly tugged the reins.

Brow twitching, Touga watched as the dragon rose to its feet, its tail swaying as it happily loped after its mistress.

"I ravage her homeland. She steals my dragon," he muttered in exasperation. "That makes perfect sense."

He looked in the direction Amayami had taken, wondering if he should bother to follow. Rubbing his temples, he counted softly under his breath to ten, and wished for a bottle of sake.

---

Daisuke spat a lock of his hair from his mouth as he paced back and forth. Waiting was the worst part, other than the real possibility that they would fail. "Shouldn't they be here already?"

"Still in hurry to have your head on a pike, I see," Keiji drew out drolly. "And yes, they're late."

He reached up and snatched leaves from the branch above him. For a moment he was content to lose himself in the simple act of shredding.

"I think this is unwise," Keiji insisted, snatching another handful of leaves.

Daisuke groaned, rolling his eyes as the usual statement. He was half-certain Keiji would think that even the setting sun was unwise.

"We've been over this already," he warned, "Far too often for my tastes."

"No," Keiji intoned softly. "That's not what I mean." He swept his wary gaze over the forest, noting that their allies still hid amongst the trees, and then looked down at the darkened manor. "Why are we attacking them in their home?"

A dark laugh echoed in the forest, causing the hairs on his arms to stand on end. Keiji tore his startled gaze from the manor and back to his young lord. Eyes filled with feral darkness gleamed from a face cast in half-shadows, leaving Keiji to wonder, if his master had gone mad.

"Because, Keiji," Daisuke answered, and then his voice grew harsh with a thread of panic, "no one expects to be attacked at home."

"Daisuke?" Keiji questioned, shaking his head slowly. His mind filled with broken sentences, which tumbled from his lips. "This.. We.. Uh, we need to pull back."

He raised his hands in a placating manner. "Just for tonight." Silence ensued, the and only sound was an uneasy swallow Keiji could not hold back.

"Why?" asked Daisuke after a moment, his voice deadly calm.

Licking his lips, Keiji clasped his hands together and sputtered the first reason that came to mind. "They'll be less guarded."

"They're not suspecting anything now," Daisuke countered. "Besides who would attack a couple of daiyoukai nobles? It's suicide."

Keiji covered his face with one hand, wondering if Daisuke even comprehended what he just said.

"Ah," he stammered, thinking quickly. "They've been traveling all day. No doubt they're wary _and _suspecting an attack. If we-"

"Daisuke-sama! Keiji-dono!"

Both youkai whirled around as Taro, a field hand turned, lookout, crashed through the underbrush. He bent at the waist, leaning heavily on his upper thighs. "They're here," he gasped between pants. "They've just entered the valley a few moments ago."

"It's about damn time," Daisuke answered, raking a hand through his hair. He peered through the trees, searching, but did not see his targets. They were still too far away. "All right."

He turned to Keiji, a clear question in his eyes. _What should I do? _His friend offered no suggestions, nor advice, only the thick air of disapproval. Shaking his head, he tried to dismiss Keiji's earlier words, but found the harder he tried, the louder they clamored within his mind.

He was uncertain, more than afraid, and almost wished he had died with his father. _Almost. _"Taro," he barked, startling the younger youkai. "Go to Yuiko and Senichi and tell them-"

He locked eyes with Keiji, who seemed to implore him with a glance. Eyes on Keiji he swallowed hard, exhaling his command in a solitary rush of breath. "We'll attack on my order."

__

Forgive me, Umeko.

---

Although the sky was tormented with fierce lightning and rolling thunder, not a single drop of rain had fallen. Humidity clung to the air, thick and sticky, as a balmy breeze blew from the east. The first of the night's stars began to appear as twilight settled over the valley.

Amayami's eyes slid sideways. "Will we arrive before nightfall?"

Touga nodded. "We're almost there." He watched in vague annoyance as Amayami reached up to scratch the pack animal under each chin. "Faster, if we rode."

He's tired," she reminded. "You said so yourself." She tilted her head back and the dragon butted at her affectionately.

Touga's gaze followed the length of her throat to the swell of her breasts. He could still taste her on his lips, he thought, barely registering that she was still speaking, or more accurately lecturing him.

"I doubt very seriously you would enjoy it if I rode you-"

Amayami clamped her jaw shut and flushed scarlet to her hairline. Her blush deepened to plum as Touga's laughter rang out through the valley. That had dragged him from his thoughts.

"Oh, hush," she huffed after several moments. "You know very well what I meant."

Touga's laughter dwindled to a chuckle, and then he swallowed it down. "Yes," he snickered. "I do." He shot her a smarmy grin. "And it would be my honor, dear lady."

His teasing earned him a dark look and empty silence. Uttering a harsh sigh, he looked up at the sky, and then back at her. "I've lived for over nine hundred years. I've talked my way in and out of war more times than I can remember. And yet, with you, I can't string two sentences together without sounding like a fool."

Amayami smiled, but ducked her head to hide her eyes beneath her bangs. She wanted to hate him for what he had done, what he had tried, and the conflicting feelings he had evoked within her. Nothing made sense anymore. "Is this where we apologize to each other?"

Touga sidled up to her, close, but not quite touching. "I don't know," he admitted. "But, I am sorry."

She looked at him from the corner of her eye. "For what?"

He took the reins from her, his fingers lingering against hers for a moment longer than necessary. "I don't know."

Turning slightly, he led them down a narrow path that was almost invisible from the road. Ancient trees towered on either side, their limbs forming a canopy high above that obscured the waning daylight.

Amayami stifled a yawn, suddenly feeling the fatigue of many sleepless nights and the day's travel. Touga slipped an arm around her, massaging the back of her neck with one hand. Giving her a quick peck on the cheek, he handed her back the reins, and strode forward.

"We're here," he explained as he pushed open the sturdy wooden gate. As she tried to pass through the gate, he snagged her elbow, and laid his finger on the side of her nose. "No claws."

Amayami frowned as he shooed her into the courtyard, finding herself not really wishing to know.


	9. Chapter Nine

****

Chapter Nine:

Beyond the gate lay the most beautiful estate Amayami had ever seen. Her eyes followed a multitude of colored mosses and lush flowers as they tangled along the bank of a brook that widened into a miniature waterfall.

The manor itself was a compound of small, low standing buildings with a main house that seemed to be one with the mountain at its back. Everywhere she looked was a window or door leading to the outside and paths dotted with smooth stepping-stones.

Countless clay bells were strung from the overhangs of the roofs, chiming in the cool westerly breeze. Amayami sighed, relaxing for the first time in hours. Soon she would consign herself back to the troubles of reality, but for this moment, it scarcely seemed to matter.

From the corner of her eye, she watched as Touga closed and barred the heavy wooden gate. When he turned in mid-gesture and smiled, her heart lifted to her throat. No man had ever before smiled at her in that manner and been sincere.

Shyness crept across her nerves and reaffirmed her distrust. Touga was always sincere. It was only the nature of his sincerity she questioned. His smile widened as he took a small step forward and there was a look in his eyes she could not describe.

Shuddering back a gasp, she turned away and fought the urge to hug herself. "Are we expected?"

Her voice was calm and haughty, but there was an undeniable thread of panic. Unshed tears glittering in her eyes, she swallowed hard and fisted her fingers into her long sleeves, twisting and tightening until her knuckles turned whiter than the fine silk.

Standing on tiptoe, Touga peered up at the main house, searching for any sign of the estate's caretakers. His brows knit together in a frown as nothing seemed amiss. "No," he said, shrugging. "They must be out back."

"They?" she asked, sidestepping and turning when he tried to grab her. She tilted her head, listening to the bells clamor as the wind gusted. "How long are we staying?"

The corner of Touga's mouth quirked up in amusement. "A few weeks." He cradled her chin in his palm, his long fingers grazing the twin stripes on one cheek. His eyes were soft, mysterious. "Your mother must have been lovely."

She drew back just a little. "Why?"

His lips felt like whispers upon hers, but she was more aware of his fingers sliding through her damp hair. Her palms pressed against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the damp silk. "Tell me why," she demanded, swallowing. Her pulse was too rapid and her breath too quick to voice real demands.

Touga tipped his head to one side and pondered her wide eyes and parted lips. "Because," he murmured, lips fluttering across her cheeks and along her jaw. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Her smile was swift and fleeting. "I've seen your concubines."

She had seen them twice, perhaps three times, but it was enough for a lifetime. Four beautiful, well-bred, and ultimately powerless women that had been bartered for the personal gain of another. Amayami would have pitied them, had their situations not been so similar.

Resentment coursed through her as she recalled his concubines and their silent, desperate obedience. "I am not your property," she hissed, glaring into his surprised eyes. "I will not be owned!"

His chuckle was full of male confidence. Touga lifted a fingertip and touched where her pulse leapt in her throat, smirking when she shivered. "Truly?"

Amayami glowered, jerking away. "You're baiting me." Her hands flexed at her sides as if she longed to use them on him.

Touga tilted his head, studying her for a moment. "Yes," he admitted, his lips quirking as she sighed and shook her head. "I still think your mother must have been lovely."

Amayami edged past him and reached up to stroke Ichi-ni's muscled flank. Her eyes were troubled, searching. "I don't remember."

"Nothing at all?" Touga asked, filled with perplexing emotions. He felt as though he had uncovered some deep, intimate secret. "The war?"

Amayami stared at him, but her eyes were very far away. The way her lips moved without saying words terrified him.

"You don't have to answer," he said, wishing he could just take back the question entirely. "I've already been too intrusive."

Amayami touched her forehead, fingertips tracing the crescent moon on her brow. She blinked and focused her shimmering eyes on him. "My mother took her own life."

"What?" he whispered in hushed urgency and gripped her arms, utterly forgetting his desire to not know. "Why?"

Amayami almost laughed. "Do you wish to know or not? You're so indecisive," she taunted, pulling from his grasp. "Although, it does explain why you're in a different bed every night."

Her words stung, but he let them pass. He reached for her, almost but not quite touching, and when she did not jerk away, he eased his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her closer. To his astonishment, she pressed herself against him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I suppose it also explains why you destroyed village after village, even after you already had more land than any daiyoukai on the island," she whispered, lips moving against his kosode.

Touga stroked her hair, wishing he could say something to put her mind at ease. "You're probably right," he decided after a thoughtful moment and then quickly amended his statement. "I am indecisive, but I can't help thinking that you're trying to pick a fight. It's your way of keeping a wedge between us."

Amayami flinched, surprised by his sudden astuteness. "Perhaps, but doesn't mean what I say isn't true." She drew an uneven breath and tilted her head to look him directly in the eyes.

"You want me to ease your conscience, Inu no Taishou," she whispered, lips inches from his. "To tell you that you didn't drive my mother to an early grave."

He held her closer and massaged the back of her neck. There was no bite to the honorific title and no accusation in her words. Still, he did feel chastised, accused. "Yes," he admitted, brushing his lips against his temple. "But I won't ask you to lie."

Amayami smiled against his chest. "You do ask me to lie," she murmured, kissing the space above his heart. "Every time you touch me."

"Amayami, I-"

She laid a finger on his lips, silencing his protests. "Sometimes people die so that others might live. Such was true of my mother."

Touga released a pent up breath and it washed warmly over her face. Her words were of no comfort and he had to wonder at them.

He tapped her forehead, running his finger lightly across her crescent moon. "This mark is from your mother."

Amayami offered a barely perceptible nod and reached up to touch his hand. She nestled her thumb in his callused palm, rubbing in soft circles.

"It's all I have left of her."

"I'm sorry," he said, meeting her eyes. He had meant every syllable, but his words seemed so inadequate. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and then reached around to snag the dragon's reins.

"You should head to the main house," he suggested, jabbing his chin that direction. "Before it starts raining again."

His eyes widened in surprise as her hand shot out and closed around his wrist. This was not the first time he had witnessed her uncanny speed, but it was still just as impressive.

Giving his hand a slight squeeze, Amayami nodded towards the gate. "You finish here and I'll take him to the stables. They're in the back?"

Holding her gaze, Touga tried to judge her mood. She seemed so exhausted and fragile, as if she were crumbling into herself. "Yes, but I'd rather you go inside," he answered, slowly, and then added, "It's been a long day and you look tired."

Amayami's smile did not quite reach her eyes. "I am exhausted." She reached up to rub a worry line between his eyebrows. "And so are you."

For once Touga agreed with her. Still he wanted to do something kind for her, even if it were only a token gesture. "I am tired," he admitted, a corner of his mouth lifting. "Which is why I'd like for you to walk up to the house and have Cho start dinner."

Her smile widened, revealing a hint of fang, but her eyes remained distant, aloof. She gave the reins a slight tug. With little protest, Ichi-ni lumbered to his feet, ready to obey his mistress' command.

"I'm not hungry," she said, brushing past him. Amayami paused and glanced over her shoulder, flicking back her hair. "I need to be alone for awhile.

Touga nodded, disappointed, but still managed a meager smile. As always, she and her need for solitude puzzled him. He realized that she had revealed more than she had intended. And now, she would sulk like a wounded creature and nurse her pain alone.

Worse was the realization that he could do nothing, save watch her long sleeves billow in the wind, as she strode away. "Damn it," he growled, wondering at the hollow feeling within his chest.

Behind him a twig snapped purposefully. Touga pivoted on his heel, bending to glower down at an otherwise unassuming bush. It trembled, shaking from something other than just wind.

Touga sighed, rolling his eyes skyward, and wondered what exactly he had done to deserve all this. "You can come out now, flea."

The tiny youkai peeked out from behind a leaf, scowling fussily at him. "It Myouga!"

There was once a time, many years ago, when he had been respected, if only name. Then he had been Myouga-sensei and Touga had been not yet filled with rage. Those days were long past, as was evident by the claws speeding towards his head.

"My Lord!" the flea gasped, ducking and dodging. "After all I've done for you!"

Brows twitching, Touga crossed his arms over his chest and stared, hard-eyed, down at the sniveling flea. "You haven't done anything for me, _Myouga._"

Myouga opened and closed his mouth in rapidly, looking very much like trout caught on dry land. "What you mean?" he sputtered, aghast. "I've served your family for decades!"

Touga exhaled, his nostrils flaring. "Myouga," he growled, extending his hand. "I'm in no mood."

Myouga huffed, muttering something about ungrateful children and the indignity of it all. The leaf beneath him quivered, bowing under his miniscule weight. "Well, uh…" He followed Touga's eyes to see Amayami disappear behind the house.

Taking a deep breath, he leapt into the air and landed neatly on inu daiyoukai's palm. "Ah, Touga-sama?"

Without even blinking, Touga slapped his hands together, flattening the flea youkai against his palm. "Myouga," he muttered, ignoring the flea's muffled curses. "What do you know about Takayuki?"

Myouga blinked, bleary eyed, as he weaved drunkenly, his lord's words coming to him a cacophony of mumbles. "Your lady mother-" he skittered across Touga's palm as the shadow of the other loomed overhead. "-Don't squish me! I'm just the messenger!"

Touga snorted, dropping his other hand. This vassal was many things, none of which could be called simple. "Myouga," he began, his voice low and full of warning. "Tell me about Takayuki."

Myouga scratched his chin, nodding to himself. "Amayami-sama's father, eh? Not much to tell. He was a wise and benevolent daiyoukai of terrifying power."

"And I defeated him," Touga interjected, quietly. He felt no pride whatsoever in the proclamation. "You're telling me nothing I don't know."

"With all due respect, milord," Myouga began, gently. "You never faced Takayuki-sama in combat." He tensed and squeezed both eyes shut, preparing for the worst, so that his next words came out in a rush. "But I'm sure you would have done fine."

Much to his amazement, nothing happened. There were no sudden squishes or brutal grinds beneath his lord's heel. Not even a harsh word. He breathed a sigh of relief, but did not let his guard down.

"Not long after his wife died, Takayuki-sama had his daughter declared heir apparent-" Myouga paused, frowning. "If I may ask, my Lord? Why not simply ask Amayami-sama?"

"She keeps her own counsel," Touga muttered and deposited the flea onto a drooping flower, knowing full well the old flea could easily translate his words. _She doesn't trust me._

"I see," Myouga said with a hint of sympathy in his tone. "Much of what I know is hearsay, but I could see if there is any truth to rumors."

Touga seemed to consider his suggestion for a moment. "You do that," he commanded, turning on his heel. Before he could take a single step Myouga cleared his throat, calling after him.

"My Lord," Myouga began, diplomatically. "What shall I tell your Lady Mother?"

Touga paused, but did not turn around. "Tell her that so long as she's with _him_," he drew out coldly, "she's no kin of mine."

Myouga sighed, fearing as much. Unfortunately, he was honor bound to deliver his mistress' message. "Yumeni-sama, your Lady Mother, finds herself in a delicate situation."

Bile bubbled in the back of Touga's throat as his face contorted into mask of rage. "And?" he spat. The word was cold, weighted, and very dangerous, betraying every bit of his sudden conflicting emotions.

Myouga took a deep breath and prepared to flee. Now that he recalled, Touga-sama had quite a reputation for killing the messenger. "She requests that you return to her." He looked longingly out one of the knotholes in the wooden gate. "She begs you, my Lord."

Touga closed his eyes, counting softly beneath his breath. "No," he muttered. Slowly shaking his head at the sudden stir of anger. "Absolutely not."

"As you wish," Myouga answered, regret heavy in his tone. "The invitation also extends to Amayami-sama." When there was no reply, he turned to see Touga stalking down the stepping stone path, already halfway to the stables.

Myouga sighed, muttering beneath his breath. "Well, that didn't go very well."

---

Amayami hummed to herself as she loosened Ichi-ni's saddle and slung it off to the corner of the stall. She stripped off the sweat and rain soaked saddle blanket as Ichi-ni pawed and snuffled at hay-strewn floor.

"Impatient, aren't you?" she mused, reaching up to unfasten Ichi's bridle. She covered her eyes with one hand, downtrodden and tired, and breathed an audible sigh. "Reminds me of someone I know."

"Who?"

She looked up and pushed her hair back from her face. Touga leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. Anger glittered in his amber eyes until they shimmered gold.

Something trembled within her, tightening as her pulse raced. She would have been more at ease if the sensation had been fear. Swallowing to moistening her dry mouth, she made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

"A rather discourteous and overly assertive daiyoukai who has a penchant for loosing his temper." Keeping Touga's gaze, she pulled back one of Ichi-ni's ears and leaned down to whisper. "That means he's a rude and pushy grouch."

Humor sparkled and then dimmed within her eyes as his expression grew wrathful. He shoved away from the door and took a menacing step towards her.

"I know what it means," he hissed, nostrils flaring. His voice was explosive in the tense silence. "Perhaps if you knew your place, my manner would be less offensive."

Amayami balled her fists at her sides, yearning to answer his sudden rage in kind. Instead, she cocked her head to one side and allowed a sardonic smile to curl at her lips. "Are you suggesting that it's my fault that you are an ill-mannered brute?"

Touga felt a smile tug at his lips but kept his voice cool. "You should reevaluate your own behavior before you deem me ill-mannered. If you would just-"

"Be silent," Amayami commanded, eyes glittering. Straw crunched beneath her feet as she took a measure step forward. Daring him to utter a solitary word.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked him stern the eye. Touga bowed his head and fidgeted like a scolded child, feeling quite foolish. Myouga's message had turned his frustration with Amayami into anger.

"I thought I told you to go inside," he murmured, calming as she began to gently rub his shoulders. His muscles bunched and curled beneath her hands. His body seemed as lost and angry as the expression in his eyes.

Watching him from beneath hooded eyes, Amayami smoothed her hands down the lengths of his arms. "And I told you," she reminded him, taking his hands in hers, "that I wanted to be alone for awhile."

Chuckling, he laced his fingers with hers, pressing their palms together. "So, you did," he muttered, drawing her hands up to his lips. "It slipped my mind."

"You didn't listen," she corrected, shivering as he brushed his lips over her sensitive inner wrists. "What's wrong?"

Touga almost smiled. Had he not asked her that very question mere hours ago? "I asked you first."

Suddenly, Ichi-ni let out a keening bray and pawed at the straw covered floor, demanding attention. Amayami jerked away, whirling on her heel, intent on rushing to the creature's side. Without thinking, Touga lunged forward and snagged her around the waist.

"Leave him," he commanded, pulling her close. He nuzzled her neck, apologizing for startling her. "You're spoiling him."

Amayami gripped his arms, marring his leather wrist guards with her claws. "He's mine to spoil."

Had he not know better, Touga would have sworn that there was a hint of pouting in her tone. "Is he?" he asked, dubious, kissing the space behind her ear. "When did this happen?"

"Yes," she insisted, brows lifting. "My husband gave him to me just this afternoon."

Touga felt a smile tug at his lips but kept his voice neutral. "That was rather kind of your husband to offer you one of his finest war steeds."

"He has his moments," she murmured dryly. "Sometimes I can almost tolerate him."

"Not often," Touga accused, nipping her again. He hated that it hurt when she shrugged out of his arms and stepped away, keeping her back to him. He watched her walk across the large, square room to the gate leading to the enclosure.

For a moment, Amayami stood at the low gate, watching as the rain slowly tumbled from the sky. "Sometimes," she murmured, voice far away. "He can be kind and very noble. Then other times he makes so many demands and wants me to respond to things I don't comprehend. And I-" she smiled brokenly as he moved to stand beside her. "I don't think he listens very well."

"Perhaps if you spoke more often he would make it a habit to listen," he suggested, smoothing his hand down her spine. "I believe he mentioned that he couldn't read minds."

Amayami piled her hands on the gate, griping the weathered wood until it creaked in protest. He was being tender and she hated every moment of it. Worse yet, he was mocking her with pity-tainted compassion.

Silently, he eased her hands from the gate and took them within his. They were so cold and wet from the drizzling rain that he shivered. He rubbed them gently, his roughened fingers tracing the fine calluses on her palms. "You're a fine swordsman."

Pride made Amayami school her features and summon an amused smile. "My handmaidens wish I were more of a lady."

"I see," he chuckled and ran a claw down the center of her palm. "Most of these calluses are old, but some are fresh. I can tell you practice often."

She raised a brow, challenge glittering in her eyes. "I practice when my husband is with his-" she swallowed a sudden spike of anger. "When he's occupied."

Touga grimaced. The thought that Amayami was honing her skills while he sated himself with his concubines was more than a little unsettling. "Why do you hate my concubines so much?"

All amusement left her face and her eyes grew contemplative. "You have already chosen them over me. I have no reason to believe you won't do the same to our child."

Touga almost growled. Did she truly believe his concubines ruled him? That he would abandon everything for their sake? One look into her hurt filled eyes and he realized the answer.

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. "I would never," he began, but the words seemed so inadequate "…I care about you, Amayami."

It was such simple declaration, yet enough to make Amayami's cheeks grow hot. A reaction that was impossible to hide with skin so fair. "I…"

"Hush," he murmured, pressing the palm of his free hand over her heart. "I don't need to hear your words to know your heart."

Amayami covered his hand with her own, pressing so he could feel the rapid beating of her heart. "And what does my heart tell you?"

He traced the stripes on her cheek with his free hand. "It tells me that I need to earn your trust," he breathed, lips brushing hers, "and that you value actions over words."

She bit her lip to hide a grin, but her eyes still sparkled with humor.

"And you're laughing at me," he sighed, dropping his hand as he looked up at the sky. It was starless with flashes of lightning that brightened darkness to day.

Amayami shook her head. "No, it's just." There was no mistaking her sincerity as she wrapped her arms around him. "You shouldn't try so hard when you're tired."

The corner of his mouth tugged upward. "We should go inside," he suggested. He wound an arm around her waist, but made no effort to move. He was almost fearful that if he did, the moment would be squandered.

"Or we could stay here," he whispered, only half in jest, "and sleep in the haystacks."

Amayami's lips curved a bit as she squeezed him. "We could," she acquiesced, stifling a yawn. Now that she was at ease, exhaustion once again crept into her bones. "But there is only one saddle blanket and I don't think that Ichi-ni is willing to share."

The dark, hostile glare Touga shot the dragon-hybrid was enough to make her grin. His eyes narrowed, deepening the near perpetual worry line between his brows.

"You should teach your pet discipline," he said with a disdainful sniff. "Or else he won't be fit to live with come summer."

Amayami pulled away and eyed him thoughtfully. He wondered if she could see the distant worry within his eyes, he half hoped she could.

After a moment, she placed her hands on her hips and twisted her lips twisted in mock indignation. "I'll have you know," she sneered, tone haughty, "he is one of my husband's finest war steeds."

Touga raised a skeptical brow, willing to play along. "He's a sullen old nag."

"Yes," Amayami answered, sighing in mock despair, "but he is my husband, so I'll have to make do."

Surprise colored his features, chasing away the last of his irritation. He rolled his shoulders, laughing softly. Only Amayami could ease and rile his temper with calculated insult.

His hands circled her waist, bare palms pressing against her clothed belly. He jerked them away, shivering as an involuntary ache of pure desire went through him. "Few have the courage to mock me."

Amayami drew a ragged breath. The way he looked at her made her heart race and her breath quicken. "Not to your face," she rasped and then drew a sucking breath, calming herself. "What troubles you?"

The abrupt change of subject startled Touga. One moment she was girlish and playful and the next she was dour and concerned. It unnerved him more than he cared to admit. "I asked you first," he retorted, not caring that he sounded childish. "What upset you earlier on the road?"

Amayami shook her head wearily. "Everything, nothing, and all things in between." She held her breath and then exhaled softly. "I miss my father."

The admission did not shame her as she thought it would. Rather, she felt lighter as if a weight had been lifted from her heart. "He's the one person I truly trust."

"You were close," Touga stated, gently. He knew that he stated the obvious and that it was far wiser to hold his tongue.

Nodding, Amayami tangled her fingers in the ends of his hair and watched as her claws slid through the silvery strands. "So much has happened so quickly that I don't feel like myself anymore. And I wish..."

She dropped her hands to her sides, balling them into white knuckled fists, and scowled at him. Her mood shifted like lightning. "I thought you said that you didn't need to hear my words to know my heart."

Touga lifted his shoulders and let them sag. There was no mistaking the hostility or accusation within her tone. She raked a hand through her hair, all indignation despite the unshed tears in her eyes.

"I've always been more telepathic than empathic," he said and tried to smile at his own humor. "What's bothering me…it's my mother."

He kissed her softly, and then wound his arms loosely around her waist. "She and I have differences." He swallowed, wondering at the guilt that stung him. "I thought I made it clear I wanted nothing more to do with her and now today, today-"

He implored her with a look. "She needs my help."

"Then help her," Amayami whispered, stroking his cheek.

Touga had to smile. The answer was so simple and sensible, so his Amayami. "It's not that easy," he said, burying his face in her neck, hiding. "I can't forgive the things she's done."

There was such raw pain in his voice Amayami could not bring herself to pry. Instead, she held him close and offered the only observation she could. "No matter what she's done, she's still your mother."

Nodding to herself, she kissed his temple and rubbed the small of his back. "Let's go inside," she coaxed. "We can talk and decide what do."

"There is nothing to decide!" he snarled, jerking away. The very suggestion made him furious. "She can rot for all I care."

Amayami lifted an eyebrow and Touga knew that he was about to set in his place. Although a head shorter, she seemed to tower over him, her pale, depthless eyes glinting dangerously.

"Inu no Taishou," she said, dryly. "Once again you prove your capacity for selfishness is indeed infinite."

Furious, he stepped back. His jaw clenched so tightly she could see the hard constricts of muscle. "Bitch."

Amayami smirked at his cold, concise tone and flicked back her hair, unbothered. "How boring," she replied with a sort of bitter pleasantry. "I'm going inside."

She leaned down to the giving the dozing pseudo-dragon an affectionate goodnight pet and turned towards the door. "You can either join me, or stand in the barn all night."

Touga made an impatient gesture, demanding she listen. "You don't know what she's done," he called after her, relieved when she paused. "Or what she's capable of. You only think you've seen the worst of me."

"I see," she said, calmly, "So it is all about you."

There was no inflection in his voice, despite the terrible wrath in his eyes. "No. It's about that bitch and what she's done to me and my father."

Chuckling softly and shaking her head, Amayami turned and took a step forward. Her eyes were sympathetic and her eyes sad, but all Touga saw was condescendence. "It's about how she hurt you."

In a blur of anger, Touga backhanded Amayami across the face, sending her stumbling back. She nearly fell, but regained her footing at the last moment.

Horrified at what he had done, he stared at her bowed head and then down at his reddened hand. Reaching helplessly for her, he stammered when he spoke. "Amayami I-"

Amayami's fist arched up and connected neatly with his jaw. Touga grunted, staggering back, and narrowly dodged a second blow. When she lunged for him again, eyes darkened with rage, he was not again as fortunate. Slipping on the scattered straw, he muttered a curse as he lost his balance and stumbled backward into a haystack.

Before she could stalk away, he kicked out his feet, aiming for her knees. Missing just barely, but close enough that stopped in her tracks. She spun on her heel, eyes blazing and fearless despite the spreading bruise on her cheek. "You bastard!"

Grunting Touga shoved himself into a sitting position and wiped the blood from his lips. "You don't know the half of it," he spat, blood dribbling from his chin.

Amayami touched her cheek, wincing at the sudden throb in her jaw. Without looking, she knew the entire right side of her face was a glorious purple. Not surprising, but nonetheless hurtful, he had turned on her the moment she let her guard down. The moment she was foolish enough to trust him.

She snorted a derisive laugh. "I should have known." Turning, she stalked away, only to pause in the doorway. "I find it difficult to believe you could be much worse."

As she disappeared through the door, he muttered a hard curse and fought the urge to chase after her. He hated that she could provoke him with a single turn of phrase.

"Damn it!" Touga punched ground and then slumped back into the haystack. Most of all, he hated making excuses for himself.

---

Unhurried, despite the driving rain, Amayami strolled across the courtyard towards the main house. She paused to glare over her shoulder at the stable. "Idiot," she cursed and then quickened her pace, stalking rapidly back to the house. "Damn moronic fool."

Reaching the main house, she plopped down on the steps and folded her knees to her chin. She touched her cheek again, finding it almost healed. Still, it throbbed with a pain that was not quite physical.

Her eyes stung and she cursed, scrubbing at her face. She had shed more almost tears in the past month, than in her entire life. Sensing someone behind her, Amayami stiffened and called out in her most neutral tone. "Yes?"

"Ah, it's me, old Haru," rasped an old man as he stepped out onto the patio. He scratched a scaly spot on his balding head. "Who might you be?"

Amayami rose to her feet, but did not turn around. "Amayami," she answered, stopping herself in mid step. She frowned. "I thought the caretaker's name was Cho."

Haru beamed and bobbed his head. "Cho is my granddaughter. My pride and joy, you see."

"I see," she said softly, and then added. "Touga is in the stables."

Haru made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and groan. He took Amayami's familiarity with the master to mean she that was welcomed in the estate.

"Pretty thing like you out here alone and he's in there playin' with the livestock," he said, shaking his head. "I always knew that boy wasn't right in the head."

Amayami ran a hand through her hair, plastering the wet strands to her bruised cheek. "It's a stressful time for him." She frowned, wondering why she was making excuses for him. "For everyone."

"I can see that with the war finally endin' and all," Haru mused, wrinkled lips twitching thoughtfully. "Well, I'll have Cho see to your rooms after I walk the back. Bath house is 'round the corner if you're interested."

Amayami bit back a smile. "Thank you, Haru-san," she said, turning to nod a bow. Her smile vanished. "It's raining."

"Ho!" Haru craned his neck and eyed her from head to toe. "Smart and pretty," he said, grinning. "Serious, now, there are some travelers camped out in the forest. I need to make sure they're not gettin' into mischief."

Amayami tapped her chin and squinted out into the rain. Visibility was practically non-existent. "What sort of travelers?"

"Horses from the smell of 'em," Haru answered with a cagey wink. "They're usually pretty amicable folk, so I don't think they mean any harm."

Amayami raked her fingers through her hair and stepped up on tiptoe. "Perhaps, I should investigate."

"Now, I know old Haru isn't the best company," he drawled, an amused glint in his eye. "but there's no need to hurt yourself rushin' off."

Amayami paused, an apology on her tongue. Something about Haru and his strange manner was so endearing. "I'll take that under advisement."

For a moment she stood there, gazing off into the distance. Her eyes drifted back to the dim outline of the stables. "Idiot."

"I'd be happy to go fetch him for you, Lady," Haru offered, knowing the insult was not directed at him. "If that's what you're after."

Amayami nodded, seeming lost in thought. She was thinking of her mother. Trying to grasp a solitary memory that was not immersed in pain, sadness, or fear. _Mother… _"No."

"Well, then I'm off," he said, winking as he bowed low. "It's been a pleasure, Lady."

Amayami waited until he was a short distance away before calling after him. "Haru-san." Her was voice soft and cutting, despite the tiny sob in her throat. "I need to send a message."


	10. Chapter Ten

****

Chapter Ten:

Touga rested his chin on his steeped fingers and stared at the slanting gray rain. Before morning the ambling brook would have swelled and reduced the gardens to little more than a muddy bog. Tomorrow he would make certain the pavilion was still intact and clear the fallen limbs from the orchard. _His father's orchard._

Centuries had passed since his father's demise and yet, Touga could not bring himself to consider the orchard his own. He had not raised each tree from seed to sapling or painstakingly grafted the strongest limbs to the strongest trunks.

Despite his serious demeanor, a slight smile curled at his lips as he rose to his feet and began to pace the small room. Now summer was rapidly approaching, each tree would have to be pruned and shaped before it began to flower.

He paused in mid step, frowning out the side door at the cresting brook. The orchard was set high along the foothills of the mountain and in little danger of flood. The waters would drain in a few days, barring another storm and then…

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Haru staring at him. His eyes were shining and his face was nearly split in a grin. Staring was not the proper term, he was beaming.

Touga curled his upper lip, revealing square teeth and pointed fangs. "Something funny, old man?"

Haru laughed deeply, sounding like an old bear, and waved his hand. "Nah, now, don't be working yourself into a fuss. Old Haru was jus' thinking."

Touga snorted, his eyelids heavy with skepticism. "About?"

"Ah, well." Haru glanced up at him, his smile dimming and then twisting into wistfulness. "The way you was walking around an' looking all thoughtful like. It jus' reminded old Haru of..."

"Of what?" Touga snapped, flinging one hand out impatiently.

Haru frowned, scrutinizing the daiyoukai from head to toe. "I see marriage hasn't helped your manners none." He made a throw away gesture and shook his head. "It's jus' fool talk."

__

You've never said a foolish thing in your life, Touga thought as he crossed his arms and feigned a dour expression. "You dwell on the past too much."

__

And you not enough, Haru thought as he chuckled softly. "Ah, well, at my age I got more past than future. So it's reasonable, I think."

Touga watched as Haru rose from the floor and tried to remember a time the elderly youkai had not served his family. Or more accurately, he traced countless threads of memory, searching for a solitary moment where Haru was not quite so old.

"You speak as though you already have one foot in the grave," Touga scoffed and tried not to stare at the elderly youkai's liver spotted hands. "That's not like you."

Haru straightened to his full height, laughter rattling from his chest like loose pebbles. "I suppose I am feeling my age," he clucked and bobbed his shoulders in a shrug. "It happens to us all eventually."

"Even those who live forever," Touga said softly, uncertain of the sinking feeling within his chest.

Haru's laughter dwindled to chuckle and then he snuffed it out altogether. "No such thing as living _forever_. We live 'til we die or we live 'til we don't know the past from the now. Either way it's the same."

Touga ran a hand over his face, rubbing lightly at his temples, and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much history here, so many memories, and Haru was entrenched within it all.

"I hadn't realized life here had become so dreary that you'd willingly turn to philosophy," he teased, faking a broad smile. "Cho must be bored to tears."

"She's a good girl," Haru quipped, eyes twinkling with pride. "Smart as a whip, she is."

Touga nodded in agreement, distracted by the lightning that flashed silently outside the window. "You like anyone who listens to your stories," he insisted, pausing to count the time between strikes. "And she dotes on you."

Haru shuffled across the room to stand beside from Touga. "That she does." He hunched his shoulders, leaning forward to squint out the window at the pouring rain.

"Eh," he muttered, dismissing the weather with a wave. "This'll all be over come morning. The herb garden will likely be the hardest hit."

"What of the orchard?"

Haru chuckled and shook his head, thinking once again how much Touga sounded like his father.

"Ah, you needn't worry, Lord," he assured. "They're youkai trees, raised by youkai hands. They ain't gonna be hurt by a little rain."

Touga uttered a noncommittal grunt and turned on his heel, putting his back to the window. In truth, the orchard was such a trivial matter. Holding no great secrets or power, it would not aid him in future trials.

It was utterly worthless, meaningless, and it had belonged to his father. _Father. _"Tell me about these bandits," he hissed tersely.

Haru frowned, slightly baffled at his master's sudden change of subject.

"Now, Lord," he chastised, "don't be assuming ill of folk for no reason."

"Either way, they are trespassers on my land," Touga snapped. His tone grew sardonic and biting with bitterness. "I'm surprised that Amayami didn't rush off to make certain for herself. Trust is so obviously beneath her."

"Rushes off without thinking, does she?" Haru said edgily, ignoring the latter half of Touga's statement. "Explains why you like her so much."

A flash of amusement glittered in Touga's eyes. "You are fortunate that you are my father's favorite cousin," he bit out darkly, but there was no real threat to his words.

"Oh?" Haru chuckled, furrowing his thick eyebrows. "Struck a nerve have I?"

"Haru," Touga murmured in final warning. Too many days with too little sleep had left him irritable. "You try my patience-"

"Oh, you hush your mouth." Haru snorted, glaring as he waggled one gnarled finger. "Inu no Taishou or not, I ain't afraid of no one whose nappy I used to change."

Touga lifted his jaw and tried his best to look dignified. "You did no such thing."

"Sure I did." Haru shrugged off Touga's disbelief. "Who else was gonna do it?"

"Where was Mother?" Touga asked in a voice that was little more than a mortified squeak. "Or my nursemaids?"

Haru scratched his chin, amused as Touga's face darkened to scarlet. For all his bluster, the daiyoukai was delightfully easy to mock and even easier to embarrass. In part because he most empathetically denied there was ever a time that he was anything less than perfection.

"Of course you don't remember it none, but your birthing was difficult on your mother," he explained, tapping his chin with a bony finger. "You was big and Yumeni-dono was small and young like your Lady."

Touga gave him an unfriendly look. "Amayami is nothing like my mother."

"As you say, Lord," Haru conceded, offering a curt nod. "Yumeni-dono labored for three full days before she was able to push you into this world, but by that time she'd already begun to fade."

"She was dying," Touga answered softly. He had heard this story a thousand times and knew it by heart.

Mother had been dying, bleeding to death, and the midwife had given her up for dead. She had already gone cold before Father reached her side. In his grief, Father released surge of youki so powerful that the midwife had to shield her eyes, lest she be blinded. When the youki dissipated, Mother was alive and healthy, as if nothing had transpired.

Then there were other stories of bones mending and of crops that never failed. While his father was alive, no one feared death.

"Father had the power to heal," Touga muttered, forcing his thoughts back into the present. He wrinkled his nose in disdain. "What a shameful waste of youki."

"You only say that 'cause it passed you over." Haru clucked his tongue disparagingly. "You've always been jealous of what you didn't have, instead of being grateful for what you did."

Touga held his breath, feeling as though the elderly youkai had just spat in his face. He swallowed hard and blinked to clear his vision.

"Ah well, the power's in your blood, whether you want to admit it or not. I suppose we all have our gifts, an' you're still trying to figure out what yours is."

"I'm a warlord, not a nursemaid!" Touga's anger was sudden, genuine, but his tone was more akin to that of a frustrated child. "I've accomplished more than my father could have in a dozen lifetimes!"

"I suppose," Haru murmured, calm despite the tension in the air. "Pity you don't seem happy about it. An' happiness is all Oyakata-dono ever wanted for you kids."

"Happiness?" Touga muttered to himself. Happiness was such a trivial thing and, yet all he had done, all the senseless slaughter and all the betrayals, was for its sake. "When did I become so foolish?"

"Well, I did drop you on your head a couple times," Haru teased, his tone light and gentle, almost forgiving. "Never breathed a word of it to Oyakata-dono, and for that I'm surely ashamed."

Touga covered his face with his hands, yawning as he peeked over the tips of claws. His eyes glittered in anguished good humor. If Haru wanted to change the subject, he was more than willing to allow it.

"Father hated when you called him _Oyakata-dono_, which is why you did so constantly."

Haru bobbed his head, face splitting in a grin. "It used to make him so mad an' he'd get all flustered an' turn red, saying, 'Now, Haru, there is no need for such formality,' but," he shrugged, looking a bit abashed. "It just never seemed right calling him jus' Sesshoumaru like he wanted."

"No," Touga murmured, his voice lost beneath a soft rumble of thunder. Touga pulled the ornate clasp from his hair and tossed it down to the table. This talk of his father disturbed him more than he cared to admit. "Father hated being powerful."

Rather, his father had hated to be reminded that he was powerful. Sesshoumaru would have been content to live forever on this tiny plot of land. He would have tended his orchard and watch his children have children of their own.

This place was his father's home and Touga would protect it, always and forever.

"These bandits," he began and then made a face, amending his statement. "Travelers. Whatever. How long have they been camped in the forest?"

"Since the storm blew in a few days ago," Haru answered, unsurprised at the sudden change in subject. Touga had never quite recovered from his father's death and seldom forgave those who did. "Your lady wanted to investigate, but I managed to talk her out of it."

"So, it's only me she disregards." Touga tilted his head back, pondering the ceiling, and then looked back at Haru. "Did she say anything?"

"Lady? Nothing much," he said, a twinkle in his eyes. For once he was grateful that his youth was long past. Romance was just too exhausting. "Only that I should have the tea ready for you when you decided to come inside."

Touga frowned, deepening the worry-line etched between his eyebrows. "Did she?"

"That she did," Haru said, smirking. "Even told me what flavor to brew, though I never took you for one who'd enjoy ginger tea."

Touga turned to stare at the near empty teapot sitting innocently on the table and smiled sheepishly. "It's my favorite."

"Huh? Is that so?" Haru said, rocking back on his heels. "It does wonders for these old bones, that's for sure."

Touga nodded, wincing as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "I ache in the morning."

"Old wounds and too much fightin' will do that," Haru said with a sage nod. "Speaking of which, I put your lady friend in the master chambers."

Cocking a brow, Touga yawned into the back of his hand, and decided it was best to ignore whatever Haru was implying. "Are you ushering me off to bed?"

"Not my place to do so," Haru quipped, bemused. "But I know I ain't so good of company that you'd forget someone that pretty."

Touga made a face. "She's not that pretty," he lied, feeling oddly defensive. He was the Lord of the West, not some uncouth adolescent ruled by his baser impulses! "I've seen boys with better figures and…" He sighed, defeated. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"A bit twiggy for my taste," Haru admitted, winking at his obviously smitten lord. "But she is easy on the eyes that's for sure."

Realizing he had been baited, Touga muffled a chuckle and continued his amble about the room. He paused at the half-open side door and stared out into the drizzling rain. "She's very powerful. Like father was."

"And young," Haru added, frowning in fatherly disapproval. "I imagine she needs lots of looking after."

Touga ran his tongue over his bottom row of teeth, wincing as he prodded the gap where a tooth had been. Amayami was certainly capable of repaying violence in kind. _Could be worse_, Touga thought with dark humor. _She could have used her poison._

"She can handle herself."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," Haru said, waggling a finger for good measure. "You're not the smartest one in the bunch, but you've seen a lot of battles and are far wiser than folks give you credit."

Touga snorted, ignoring the insult-tempered flattery. Although, he did half wonder why Haru saw fit to berate him. "What are suggesting?"

"That you concentrate on teaching her a few things, instead of trying to get her on her back." Haru gave a curt nod. "You'd both be better off."

"Would we?" Touga muttered, looking away in disdain. Sometimes he wondered if everyone enjoyed testing his patience. "She's my wife."

There was none of the usual resentment in his tone, just a quite statement of meaningless fact. Amayami was his wife, but she might as well have been a stranger. "She doesn't take instruction well."

"I take that to mean, she doesn't take kindly to being browbeaten like one of your underlings?" Haru busied himself clearing the small table. "Can't say I blame her, seeing how I don't like it much myself."

Touga leaned in the doorway, crossing his legs at the ankle. His entire body feigned nonchalance. "Until Amayami's loyalties are certain, I cannot afford to give her free reign. I-"

His jawed clenched, aching, as glared harshly into the rain. For weeks he had demanded Amayami's trust and loyalty, but had offered her neither in return. "Everything I do with her is wrong," he said, feeling just short of a fool.

"It only seems like that 'cause your heart's involved."

Pride made Touga school his features into a bemused smile. "My marriage is a matter of state, Haru. Nothing more."

Odd, how easily the lie tripped from his tongue, almost as if he believed it to be true.

"Maybe so," Haru conceded, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "But it's the first matter of state to keep you up at night."

Touga straightened, cloaking his sudden uneasiness. The hour was late, sleep was elusive, and his thoughts were never far from his wife. There was no logic in denying the old youkai's words. They were obvious: yet… He lifted his chin and allowed a devious smirk to curl at his lips.

"She's a means to an end," he said in a voice that was firm and filled with his customary self-assurance. "And I intend to enjoy all she has to offer."

The words had barely left his lips when Haru uttered a sudden hoot of laughter.

"Boy, you're so full of shit, your eyes are turning brown. Jus' tell the girl you're sweet on her and get it over with. Or better yet, apologize for whatever it is you're feeling guilty about."

"I'm not… it's not my fault!" Touga huffed in protest. "If she would just relent once in a while things would be so much easier." His hands flexed as if he wanted to strangle something. "She's just so…so deliberately difficult! That's what she is!"

"And you are an arrogant boor."

Touga closed his eyes, fuming silently. Exhausted or not, he should have heard her coming. He turned on his heel just as Amayami glided through the partially open door. She moved with a casual grace that could not be taught.

She was dressed in simple yukata and wore her long hair loose, confined only by a simple braid at each temple. Touga swallowed. He wanted to wind his fingers into those pale tresses and forget his troubles for the night. "Amayami."

"Hullo, Lady!" Haru chirped, offering a sloppy bow. "We was jus' talking about you."

Amayami arched a brow, her eyes boring into Touga. "So I heard."

Every instinct within Touga told him to flee those pale, depthless eyes. It was only by exerting his will that he was able to return her glare with a baleful one of his own. "How long were you skulking about?"

"Long enough to realize that you hold a most unfavorable opinion of me," she answered, her tone deceptively pleasant. "I assume your indignation means that you lack the conviction to browbeat me within earshot."

From the corner of her eye, Amayami saw Haru's raised eyebrows and bemused smirk. Haru looked back and forth between the two fuming daiyoukai. Touga glared at Amayami, arms crossed over his chest, his golden eyes shimmering with rage.

"I see the Lord here wasn't jus' spinning tales when he said your tongue could shame an oni," Haru chided, his tone bouncy with humor. "Now you sit yourself down while old Haru goes to fix you something to eat."

"That won't be necessary."

"Save your manners, girl. No guest in this house is gonna want for a good meal, 'specially if they're family." He ambled towards the door. "Lord, you build a fire an' see if you can't break the chill in this room."

"I see a few hours sleep have done wonders for your disposition," Touga grit out at last. "What do you want, Amayami?"

Amayami extended her hands and took a small step forward. "We want the same thing. You're only too blind to see it."

Silence hung between them. He felt vulnerable, exposed, knowing his eyes revealed everything he felt for her. He closed the distance between them and lifted his hand to cup her cheek. "Do we?"

Her hand closed over his, then she used just enough pressure to break contact. "Don't."

His fingertips brushed down her cheek, lingering on her collarbone as she pulled away. Just then thunder rent the sky, seeming to shake the roof above them. Startled, Amayami jerked away, breathless from more than just fear.

Haru chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh now, no offence to you, Lady," the old youkai said, waving off her sinking glare. "I was jus' realizing you two probably won't need no fire to keep warm."

Cheeks flushing, Amayami straightened and visibly gathered her composure. She turned towards the window, retreating, but not before huffing in disdain. "Are you always so disrespectful?"

Haru swung his arms at his sides before clasping his hands together, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Why, Lady, I certainly am."

"Haru," Touga growled in warning. "I thought you were going to prepare dinner."

"Yeah, I think I'll best be gettin' while the gettin's good." He grabbed his straw hat from its hook near the door. "I'll leave your supper in the kitchen. And Lord, you remember what we talked about."

"Don't mind Haru," Touga said, long after the old youkai was out of earshot. "He only picks on people he likes."

Amayami made a light, airy sound somewhere between a sigh and chuckle and looked up at the ceiling. "Every morning I wake up wondering what you will do to perplex me."

"You're just as perplexing, perhaps more so." He touched the faint bruise on her cheek, an apology weighing on his tongue. "Most days I can't tell if you want me in your bed or if you'd rather see my head on a pike."

"Both."

The single soft-spoken answer stopped Touga in mid thought. His eyes widened as he watched Amayami's hand move over her face in a weary, defeated gesture. She took his hand in her own, entwining their fingers. "Why did you bring me here?"

Touga frowned, uncertain how to answer without offending her. He had brought her here, to his ancestral home, because she was languishing in the Western Hold.

"It wasn't to seduce you," he answered quickly, "if that's what you're thinking." He slanted her a grin. "Not that I'm adverse to the idea."

Amayami snorted, lifting her chin, and he mentally cursed. He rubbed her palm with his thumb, feeling the calluses left from years of swordplay.

"But that's what you thought, regardless," he said, lifting her hand to his lips. "And it's what you're thinking now."

Before his lips had so much as grazed her knuckles, she had already jerked her hand away.

"Despite what you think you know," she nearly spat. "I do not always think the worst of you, Inu no Taishou."

"Oh?" he replied coldly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Name one instance where you thought favorably of me. You can't, can you?"

Amayami flinched, but managed to look him in the eye. "I came to make peace with you, but I see now that it was a wasted effort." Her voice sounded weary and indignant. "Just like everything else with you."

Touga sank to his haunches with the ease of one who was used to living rough and before she could pull away, he wrapped his arms around her waist. She stiffened, flattening her palms against his shoulders as he pressed his cheek to her belly and tightened his arms. Then after a moment, she relaxed and began stroking his hair.

Amayami heard his breath grow deep and even. Relaxed like this, he looked so much younger and so very vulnerable.

"You're such a mystery to me," she admitted, sighing softly as he nuzzled her belly. "One moment you're strutting around like a common braggart and then the next you're…" she frowned, realizing he had gone very still and lax. She nudged him lightly. "Are you asleep?"

"No." He lifted his eyelids enough to see her through his lashes. "Just relaxing."

"Hmm." A smile curled at her lips as she combed through his yards silvery hair. "Is this how you always handle negotiations?"

Touga loosened his grip, allowing his hands to slide down her back to cup her bottom. "You'd be surprised how often it works."

His comment drew a short chuckle and he smiled in return. _This is how it should be between us_, he thought, turning his head so that chin rested on her belly. "I'm sorry."

As the smile vanished from her face, her eyes grew distant and Touga feared that he had offended her again. Before he could utter a single word of explanation or apology, she caged his face in her hands and bent at the waist, touching their foreheads.

"I know," she said, brushing her lips against his. "I too owe you an apology. I haven't been the easiest person to live with."

Touga felt his mood sink minutely. "You fight so hard for things that should matter little." He pulled his head away, scrutinizing every inch of her face. "And now it's broken you."

A surprised laugh escaped Amayami. She caught herself, aware of the sudden spark of his anger. "My, you do think highly of yourself, don't you? Be assured that it would take more than few minor inconveniences to break me."

Touga dropped his arms to his side, allowing her to step away. "A minor inconvenience?" he repeated, bristling as he rose to his feet. "Is that all I am to you?"

"And what am I to you?" she countered, sharply. "You certainly don't see me as an equal."

Touga closed the distance between them and caught the back of her head with one hand. "You know that's not true."

Before she could utter a single word, he kissed her hard, bruising, and parted her mouth with his own. His tongue darted between her lips, gliding over the sharp points of her fangs as his free hand splayed across the small of her back, urging her up into the kiss. He was not sure what he was trying to prove, but at the moment it seemed right.

With a little moan, Amayami dragged her lips from his to press hot kisses down the line of his jaw, catching the plump tissue of his ear lobe between her teeth. She nipped him lightly, and then licked the shell of his pointed ear in a single wet line.

Touga slowly sank to his knees, bringing Amayami's slight weight down with him, and lowered her gently to the floor. He placed one hand on either side of her head and bent, so that his face loomed only inches from hers. "You have more power over me than any being alive."

He lowered his nose to her hair, inhaling the scent of rain and of the sachets Cho had used to freshen the bed linens. "You're nearly as strong as I am, and so much faster," he murmured, swallowing as his voice grew hoarse. "There is precious little I can force you to do."

Amayami gave a wordless whimper and lifted her face to his. He felt her cool cheek on his throat, her soft lips parted as she traced the length of his jaw with her tongue. She brought her hands up between them, but did not push him away. "It's what you can do without trying that frightens me."

"You don't like losing control," he said, softly. His hand smoothed down her body, feeling the softness of his breasts, brushing over her belly and down between her thighs. "Of anything."

She flinched and caught his hand. "My body is the only thing I have left that's truly mine.

"Hmm, I see," he murmured, nuzzling her collarbone. He opened his mouth over hers, sucking in her bottom lip, and ignored the slender hand plucking halfheartedly at his fingers.

Her back arched and she voiced a little cry as he began caressing her through the light cotton of her yukata. Against her will, her hands plunged into his hair, pulling him down as she pressed clumsy kisses to his chin and throat. Thin ribbons of pleasure wove through her, one after the other, widening as they grew in strength.

Amayami trembled in anticipation, sucking in her breath, as Touga untied her sash with his free hand. Slowly, his fingers followed by his lips, he parted her yukata and exposed her skin to the chilly night air. With a tender laziness, he began kissing her breasts.

She pressed her lips together, smothering the growls that wanted to crawl from her throat. Her face turned red, her entire body tensing, as a foreign sensation grew within her lower belly.

Then she felt his gentle lips against her brow, slipping into her hairline, and down the curve of her jaw. She was aware of the heat radiating from his skin, and of the gentle pressure of his hands caressing her body.

"Shh. Don't fight so hard," Touga chided as his lips and teeth grew rough at her neck. "Tell me to go and I will go."

It was a lie and they both knew it. He would no more leave, than she would ask him to go. Still, he set back on his heels and offered her the pretense of escape. His hands smoothed up her arms and then back down to her fingertips. A soft moan escaped her lips when he lifted both her hands to kiss the insides of her wrists.

"So warm, soft," he murmured, lips brushing her flesh, eyes slightly dazed. His tongue grazed one of the stripes along her wrist, before swirling around her pulse point. "Just tell me to go."

Amayami made a sound low in her throat as indecision unraveled into temptation. His lips brushed against hers, and she felt her body relax and begin to yield. Until there was nothing that could keep her fingers from knotting into his hair or her lips from pressing against his as she pulled him down.

Touga rocked feverishly against her, face buried in the hollow of her throat. Her hands roamed over his body, touching him places she never before would have dared. There was a new anticipation, a confidence within her she had never felt before. Perhaps, she was tired of fighting the inevitable. Or perhaps, there was no perhaps and she simply wanted him.

Amayami moaned softly then, touching his cheek, urged his mouth to hers. The kiss began slowly and then changed without warning. Her mouth became desperate with a groan that seemed to come somewhere deep inside her.

Touga matched her fervor, his lips growing wild and tempestuous against hers. His tongue darted into her mouth, coaxing in a restless search for something more. She wound her arms around him and flattened herself against his body. His hands bruised at her hips, molding her against the warm evidence of his desire.

Abruptly, he tore his lips from hers and pinned her with his scarlet pricked gaze. Watching for any sign of hesitation, he pulled back slowly and untied his obi. Touga ran a trembling hand down the slight flare of her hips and the long length of her thighs. Wondering, as he began to kiss down her belly, why he was suddenly so apprehensive.

He had done this countless times, with countless women. Seldom were they anything but passing fancies or concubines traded for personal gain. Amayami was different. She was his, but more importantly, he was hers.

__

And I can't tell her, he thought, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest. _Not ever._

He sprinkled kisses on her cheeks and forehead as he slowly removed his clothes. And nearly leapt from his skin when her hands slid down to unknot his hakama ties. After a moment, he crept over her, shifting most of his weight to his elbows and froze, entranced.

Amayami was always beautiful, but lying beneath him she was radiant. Her hair was sweaty and wild, curling softly around her, and her skin pale ivory with touches of rose. Her white-blue eyes had bled to the vivid cobalt of her true form and the stripes on her cheeks writhed.

Beneath him, she shifted and parted her thighs, drawing her knees up to hug his hips. She lolled her head back, squeezing her eyes shut as if in pain.

"Amayami, dearest," he murmured, brushing his lips against her burning cheek. "Look at me."

Very slowly, she opened her eyes and stared up at him, blinking. Her cheeks were flushed and her thoughts were muddied, but her anger was quick and biting. "Is this all you want from me?"

Touga pressed against her, his hips rocking slow and teasing, and then kissed the bridge of her nose. "This and more."

One of his hands slid between their bodies, smoothing its way down her stomach to touch her lower. Then without another word, he began pushing into her, slow and sure.

She tensed. It hurt, but the pain was fleeting, and nothing compared to the feeling of invasion. He was closer to her than any being had ever been. Swallowing a tiny cry of hurt, she looked up to find him staring down at her.

"Shh, it's all right." His voice was tender and calm, matching the soft, slow movement of his hips. "Just relax."

Biting her lip, Amayami slid her hands up his back, gripping his shoulders, and squeezed her eyes shut. The stabs of pain edged pleasure were almost too intense to bear. She squirmed beneath him, hips rolling to meet his as the pain slowly ebbed away.

Then, all gentleness seemed to leave him. His face turned violently red, muscles chording in his neck as his movements became harsh and demanding. She let out a cry, more pain than pleasure, and raked her claws down his spine. His mouth bruised against hers, tongue thrusting with the same rhythm as his body, muffling her cries.

Suddenly Touga wrenched his lips from hers and buried his face in the hollow of her throat. He made a low bestial sound, and then jerked as a long almost painful pleasure coursed through him. His body trembled, shuddering as he collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath.

Lifting his head, he kissed her, crude and apologetic, his hands griping at her hips. Touga felt her mouth tremble under his, heard her breath hitch in her throat. For a long moment he lay within her, content to nuzzle her sweaty hair.

"I never expected," he breathed unsteadily, his lips tracing the line of her jaw. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she replied with the shreds of her pride in her voice. She smiled softly, but could not quite look at him. "I'm fine."

Touga withdrew slowly, noticing the wince she tried to hide and rolled to his side. He stared at her for a moment, vaguely ashamed of his loss of control. "Are you sure?"

Amayami jerked her yukata closed, scowling. "I said, I'm fine!" she snapped roughly and then sighed, meeting his eyes. "Why do you care? You got what you wanted."

Bitterly, she wondered if she would always remember this night with the same amount of shame. As much as she longed to, she could never forget this night. He would, of course. He had other women.

Touga winced and reached for his clothes. "No," he said under his breath, searching her pale, wounded eyes. He leaned forward and caught her arms as she tried to rise. "Don't assume this was meaningless to me."

She forced herself to smile. "What should I assume?"

He shook his head, at a loss for what to do or even say. He wanted to tell her that this had meant something: that she meant something more to him, but the words refused to come.

Amayami drew her knees to her chest hugging herself and looking utterly lost. "I've betrayed everything that matters to me."

Her words were an icy blade to his heart. He wanted to feel angry, but instead found himself fighting a pang a guilt.

"I can't take back anything I've done. I've never even wanted to." His nostrils flared in a pointed exhale. "But now? Now, I feel as though I've lost the only good thing to come from the war."

To his amazement, she leaned into him and laid her head on his shoulder. "I was never yours to lose."

"I know," he ground out, hating the ache within his chest. Hating even more that he had no one, but himself to blame. "Damn it! I just wanted…I should have listened."

Amayami smiled faintly, sadly. "Me too," she whispered. She touched his face, feeling the muscles tremble beneath her fingers. For a moment, she imagined the shine to his eyes might have been tears. "I'm going for a walk."

He snagged her around the waist as she tried to rise. "Don't leave," he said, surprised by the desperation within his voice. "The woods are dangerous at night."

His arms smoothed up her back, pressing her up against him. He felt her sigh. Her breath was warm on his skin and his body responded instantly to her touch.

"Safer out there than in here," she mused aloud, sighing as he kissed the space behind her ear. Her skin felt large and aching, and her body throbbed in places she never thought it would. To her surprise, it was less of a pain and more of a longing. "I'm fine, Touga. Really."

Touga rose to his feet, lifting her with him and set her lightly on her feet. He wanted to carry her, to hold her close, but did not wish to distress Amayami further. Instead he ran a forefinger down one of the stripes on her cheek. "Then stay with me tonight. I want you near me."

Amayami's eyes flashed with a reflexive spark of anger at the challenge within his words. Then relented, sighing as she shook her head. It was of no use. She had already given him everything he wanted to take. "I need time to think."

Touga pressed a kiss to her forehead, right above her crescent moon. Then he cupped her chin, his eyes very serious. "I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing one cheek, then the other, "I wanted your, _our _first time to be…" He flung out his hand, a gesture of frustration. "More than just rutting on the floor."

Hot shame washed over Amayami and she averted her eyes. "That's all it was to you?"

"No! It was…damn it!" Gripping her shoulders, Touga gave her a little shake. "Stop being so fucking stubborn and listen for once!"

He glared at her with heated impatience, daring her to speak a solitary word. "I wanted it to be special, because you are special to me; more special than my concubines or anyone else. You're going to be the mother of my heir!"

"So I'm just your broodmare?" Amayami snapped, resentment burning in her eyes. "I hate to disappoint you, Inu no Taishou, but you are several decades too early."

At his wit's end, Touga caught her around the waist and pulled her into a bruising kiss. "Stop it," he bit out, then slowed his kisses to light pecks. "Stop trying to pick a fight with me."

Amayami glared at him a moment, then her features softened into the start of shy smile. He was correct: she was trying to pick a fight with him. She was angry with him, but mostly at herself for her inability to stay angry. At least not over trivial matters.

What was it about Touga that bid her to always forgive him? If he were anyone else, the servants would be cleaning his blood from the floors.

Perhaps it was the soft look in his eyes or the wicked quirk of his lips. An undefined something that would not allow her to remain angry with him. She liked his sense of humor and his braying laugh and when he called her pet names, even if she would barely admit it to herself.

__

He's charming, she allowed, laughing softly to herself. _When he's not acting like a complete dolt_.

Touga watched the emotions play over her normally impassive face and wondered what she could be thinking. Experience told him that it was likely something at his expense.

He stepped back, holding her at arm's length, to give her a stern look. "What?"

Amayami shook her head, eyes twinkling with laughter and her expression slightly dazed, then gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "You're cute."

"I am not cute." Touga balked at the very concept. "I'm a warlord."

Her pale brow arched, regal and bemused. "And you cannot be a cute warlord?"

"No," he said flatly, shaking his head. Amayami was in one of her perplexing moods again. Perplexing, in that he was uncertain whether to laugh or brace himself for her wrath. "I cannot."

She laughed and slipped free of his grasp in one easy movement. "Well," she clucked, flicking the end of his nose. "We do not always get what we want now do we, Inu no Taishou?"

"Damn you," Touga murmured softly, without any real anger in his tone. "Can't you just accept an apology?"

All amusement left her face. She held his gaze, eyes sinking and unreadable. "I'd rather you attempt to rectify your wrongs, than have you have offer apologizes. But I don't wish to talk about that now."

"Of course not." Touga threw up his hands in defeat, bitterness creeping into his mood. "You never want to talk about anything important."

"I want to know what upset you enough that you felt the need to strike me," she began, her tone sharp. "But if you're going to whine, I will have to draw my own conclusions."

He reached out helplessly, hands not quite touching her. "I said I was sorry. Short of begging your forgiveness, what else can I do?"

"As I said before, your apologizes mean nothing to me unless you are willing to rectify your mistakes." She lifted her hand to his face, stroking the jagged stripe on his cheek. "You can start by telling me what's bothering you."

Touga took her hand in his, squeezing lightly. In truth, he did want to talk, but was worried at what she might think. His history was long, bloody, and colored with matters better left unspoken. There were shadows no amount of light could fill.

"It's a long story, Maya." He looked up at the ceiling, sighing at the slatted boards. "And a rather ugly one."

He tried to pull away, but her grip on his hand froze him. Her sudden tenderness towards him made his heart swell in his chest. Without a word, she pressed her lips to his cheek, then his chin and the corner of his jaw.

"I have the time," Amayami whispered into the shell of his ear. "And I won't judge you by your family."

Touga had to smile. Her words were so earnest, so heartfelt that he could feel the truth in every word. Or at least the truth she wanted to believe. She stepped back, offering him the chance to gather his bearings.

As she turned away, Touga slipped into his kosode and pulled an old haori from the wall. He gave it a shake, freeing it from any dust before draping it over her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" she asked, confused as he pulled the padded fabric up over her head like a hood.

"Come with me," he said, leading her by the hand. "I want to show you something."

She dug her heels into the floor, stubbornly refusing to move. "What? Where are we going?"

"You'll see." He took both her hands, tugging them in unison. "You said you'd stay with me tonight." Realizing how close he was to begging, he let go of her hands and stepped away.

Amayami fisted one hand into the haori to keep it from sliding from her shoulders. "I did not," she scolded with good humor. "Honestly, you're such a child sometimes."

Touga snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and arching a brow. "And you nag like an old woman." He softened, but just marginally. "Amayami, please."

It was the please that convinced her and that his words were a request, rather than a command. She nodded slowly. "All right, but only if you promise to tell me everything."

He considered for a moment, irritation creasing his brows. It seemed ironic that one so private, almost secretive, as Amayami would demand disclosure from another.

"You have my word," he said, sighing in defeat. "I will tell you everything, even matters you will wish to have not heard. Then afterward, we'll talk about what happened tonight."

He held her eyes, watching as she nodded in agreement. Her pale eyes and impassive features concealed her thoughts too well. "We're going for a walk?"

Touga took a moment to straighten his clothes before stepping through the side door. To his chagrin, he realized Haru had left it open. "Yes," he murmured, hoping she would not come to the same realization. "To the orchard."

"I could see it from the bathhouse." Amayami snuggled down into the haori, slipping her arms through its sleeves. "I wanted to visit it earlier, but I fell asleep while waiting for you."

Touga grimaced. "I couldn't face you after what I'd done," he admitted, looking back over his shoulder. "Hitting you was inexcusable."

She halted in her tracks, glowering at his back as he continued walking. "Because I'm a woman?"

Touga snorted and shook his head tiredly. "I've killed more women than I can count." There was no boasting in his words, only a tired statement of fact. "Some even younger than you."

"Then why?" she called, lengthening her stride to match his. "What makes me different?"

He glanced at her sideways. "If you were an enemy I would not hesitate to kill you."

"You could try."

"I could _try_," Touga amended, looking up at the lightening sky. It would be dawn within an hour. "I would not have hesitated to use force. But back there you were trying to help and I took my anger out on you."

He fell silent for a moment, before letting out an audible breath. "And then we rutted on the floor."

Amayami rounded on him. "Must you be so offensive?" She paused to draw a calming breath. "Beasts in the field rut, we do not!"

Touga blinked at her as if she had lost her mind and raised his hands in a placating gesture. He had the good grace to squeeze his laugh into cough. "Yes, dear."

"Don't _you_ dear me-" she caught herself in mid phrase. She angled her chin defiantly, glaring sideways at his smirk. "What must I see in the orchard?"

"Your wedding present."

Amayami paused, now more confused than abashed. "But you said…" she shook her head, frowning. "You've already given me a wedding gift."

"I have, but you didn't seem to like it." He let out a pointed exhale. He had given her an obi, wide and beautiful, cut from silk imported from the far west. "So, I thought perhaps you'd like something else. Consider it a one month, almost two month, anniversary present."

Amayami frowned, perplexed at the faint hurt within Touga's words. It was not like him to be so sensitive. "I thought it was beautiful," she explained, smiling gently. "Too beautiful to wear with a sword."

Another breath and he paused, turning to study her. He almost said, _I'll protect you_, but thought better of it. She would only be offended.

"You have claws, rather sharp ones, and poison. And you can move like lightning." Curious, he watched her fist her hands into the folds of her yukata. "What was your mother?"

"Powerful, beautiful, and very sad," she answered, her eyes far away. "I was too young to remember much else."

"I see." Touga could sense she was dodging the question, but let it pass. Knowing, as he did, better than most, the pain family could cause. Still, part of him longed for one of his own. Perhaps, he truly was a fool.

"What do you think of the orchard?"

"It's beautiful," she said, blinking the drizzle from her eyes. "What kind of trees does it have?"

"Fruit," he said, chuckling when she rolled her eyes. "Plum mostly with a few pears and peaches. We tried to grow nuts once, but the soil isn't right." He paused, watching his booted feet sink down into the muddy soil. "It's yours."

"You're giving me your family orchard?" Amayami asked after a long moment. The uncertainty coloring her voice matched that fluttering within her breast. "Why?"

"Because it's mine to give," he said, his words flat and hollow. "No more questions, Amayami."

Before she could protest, he turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving her with a choice of whether or not to follow.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven:**

Amayami hid a wince as Cho raked an ivory comb through her hair. Apart from breakfast this morning, Touga seemed to be avoiding her, occupying himself with the orchard and rain battered rose garden. She stared down at her hands piled atop each other in her lap. They looked ghostly against the crimson silk of her kimono.

"…I cannot believe that man came all this way on that beastly dragon! And in this weather!" Cho fussed, pulling vigorously on Amayami's hair. "It's a wonder that either of you didn't catch your death!"

Amayami concentrated on the gold and scarlet embroidery decorating the hems of her long sleeves. Part of her wanted to defend Touga, but the pang in her heart prevented any such diligence. "I don't get sick."

"That's hardly an excuse," Cho snapped, waving the ivory comb for emphasis. "If he were my husband-"

"Well, he is not your husband." Amayami twisted around to level her gaze at Cho. She carefully schooled her features, but there was no hiding the annoyance in her narrowed eyes. "If I choose not to be offended by his actions, then you should do likewise."

Cho raised her pale eyebrows and drew back a little, her lips twitching in mild amusement. "Touchy little thing, aren't you? All I meant was that if you don't remind Touga-sama to think of others, then he won't."

Color rushed over Amayami's cheeks and her spine stiffened just slightly. She was too proud to apologize for her outburst and too well mannered to remain unabashed. "He thinks of me often, a little too often for my liking."

"Oh, such a sour face!" Cho laughed, a sound as clear and joyous as the tiny clay bells strung outside on the veranda. "Be thankful he thinks of you at all. Now stop scowling, child, or you'll get ugly wrinkles like my grandfather."

"I'm not scowling!" Amayami protested, and then looked contrite. "I am thankful, it's only…" Against her will, her thoughts drifted to the deep line between Touga's brows and the inconspicuous marks from countless frowns imbedded around his smooth lips. She longed to map each line with her fingertips, committing them to memory. But there was always impatience in his embrace that she knew he would never sit still for such an inspection.

"I don't like the carriage," she admitted.

"I see." Cho's voice was calm, but held a titter of amusement. "Do you have something against keeping dry?"

Amayami felt a smile tug at her lips but kept her voice neutral. "As a matter of fact I do." She turned to face Cho. "Have you ever flown through a thunderstorm?" Her smile broadened into a grin and she turned back around as the elder woman shook her head. "Then you couldn't possibly understand."

"Oh, I can understand a lot of things." Cho's tone was dour, matching her narrow-eyed expression. "Like the real reason Touga didn't bring the carriage was probably because he wanted you to himself for two whole days."

Sighing, Amayami picked up a length of silk ribbon from the table and tangled it between her pale fingers. "We were trying to get away from everything, not drag it with us." She knew she was making excuses for him and could not fathom the reason. It was almost instinctual.

"Ha! And here I thought Touga's idea of romance was flinging girls into bed by their hair." Cho laughed and shoved playfully at Amayami's shoulder. Amayami's back stiffened until the space between her shoulder blades ached.

"Oh, don't fret now, child! Touga has been my cousin far longer than he's been your husband. I'm not saying anything that I haven't witnessed with these two eyes. Of course, I don't remember him looking at them like he looks at you."

Amayami stifled a bitter laugh. Knowing that Touga had other lovers was far different than hearing of it from a stranger. The shame might have been easier to endure had Cho not been a relative stranger or had the entire territory not known that Touga spent more time in the beds of his concubines than that of his wife. A tremble swept through her as she realized that it was partly her fault. She wanted his concubines gone from the stronghold, but in pressing the issue she had only managed to drive him to their beds.

"Stop fidgeting, child!" Cho fussed, and then yanked Amayami's hair hard enough that her head snapped back. "Or I'll never get your plaits straight!"

"That would be an unimaginable tragedy, I'm certain." Amayami arched a brow and crossed her arms over her waist, wincing as her head bobbed back. "Although, the fact that I still have hair attached to my head speaks volumes of my tenacity."

"My, don't you talk pretty." Cho paused in mid-braid and tapped a finger against her painted lips. "Of course, everything about you is pretty, especially your hair. Oh! We should change your clothes. You're too beautiful to hide beneath all this silk and brocade."

Amayami slanted a look at Cho. "I suppose I could go naked," she said ruefully, smoothing her hands along her sleeves. Perhaps because she suspected Cho was preparing her for Touga's gaze, but something about changing her clothes left her unsettled. Touching her fingers to her brow, she breathed a weary sigh, and tried to make light of the situation. "Touga would approve, at least."

"Hardly," Cho said dryly, rolling her eyes skyward. "He's far too jealous. Besides, the western stronghold might be warm enough to run around naked, but around here, these mountains can get awful drafty."

"Why would he be jealous?" Her words were incredulous, but then she was suddenly seized by anger. "It's not me who is in a different bed every night!"

Amayami glared at the wall, her pale eyes smoking, her breast rising and falling with each agitated breath. "I am certainly not the one flirting with every pretty thing that visits the stronghold! Does he honestly think I'm so deaf and blind that I wouldn't notice the all time he spends in _private_ negations with the daughters of our vassals?"

Silence greeted her tirade. She drew a shaking breath, her cheeks flaming with humiliation, and tried to look contrite. Her outburst had been untoward and an inexcusable breach of decorum, but—

_Oh, the hell with it, _she thought guiltily, and bit her lip to keep from smiling. Venting had felt wonderful, even cathartic.

"That sounds like our Touga," Cho said after a moment. Her tone was dry, but airy as if she were trying to hold back laughter. "Always rutting and strutting about. Oh and talk about bragging! Did you know that Sesshoumaru-dono used to sleep on the bench outside Touga's room? It was the only way he could keep the boy indoors at night!"

"Perhaps I should do the same," Amayami snapped with a dark look and crossed her arms over her chest, positively seething. "I'll put an end to his promiscuity with a sword if need be!"

Cho pressed one hand against her breast, feeling the rapid thud of her pulse beneath. Something within that low, sharp tone bespoke of woman that would gladly make good upon her threats. _Oh, cousin_, she thought, reigning in her chuckles. _I think you've met your match._

"Feeling better, dear?"

The question drew a smile from Amayami and a small laugh as she nodded her head. "I apologize for my indiscretion," she said with all the polish of her station, but her grin proved her statement less than sincere. "I should not speak ill of your kin."

Cho smiled and lifted her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "Words never hurt no one and besides…" She wrinkled her nose, chewing over her thoughts. "I didn't understand half of what you said. Touga's a what? A promise-something?"

"Promiscuous," Amayami repeated, smiling sadly at a sudden pang of homesickness. Her father would have been aghast that such a tawdry word had come from his daughter's lips and would have insisted the Lady General was a horrid influence. _Father, General._

Hot tears sprang to the corners of her eyes, streaking down her cheeks, before she could blink them away. She missed them both so much and feared she might never hear from either again. _Damn it_, she thought, sniffing softly. _I'm stronger than this!_ "It means…"

Swallowing, she searched for the proper word, but her thoughts were too poignant to find one. "He's a whore."

Cho slapped her hands together and laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. "Oh, how true, how true!" she cackled breathlessly, nudging affectionately at Amayami's shoulder. "Oh, but don't think keeping Touga from whoring was the only reason Sesshoumaru-dono made the benches his roost in those years."

Amayami closed her eyes, allowing her tears to dry. Hopefully, Cho had not noticed or if she had, would have the grace not mention it. Something within her told she would not be so fortunate. "Why else?" she asked with a somber smile. "What was Touga like?"

"He was… Well, you see, back then Touga had a vicious streak as wide as this here valley." Cho spread her arms wide in an encompassing gesture, and then let them drop with a weary smile. "Still does, I imagine."

"A lot of people are vicious," Amayami murmured, soft and quick like a hiss as she thought of her ravaged homeland and of all the people Touga had slaughtered without a second thought. The same Touga that could steal her breath with a kiss and make her troubles fade with a single infectious grin.

"Some are merely more devious than others with their cruelty."

Cho stared at her for a full minute, sensing the pain beneath the stillness of her expression. She laid her hands on Amayami's shoulders, squeezing lightly, as a sudden swell of compassion washed over her. "And some are cruel for fear of being kind."

"Some are kind to hide their cruelty," Amayami countered, relaxing as Cho began to rub her shoulders lightly. "Tell me more about Sesshoumaru. Did he really build this house himself? And why did Touga's ill temper worry him so?"

"Sesshoumaru-_dono_," Cho corrected sharply. "Calling the late master just _Sesshoumaru_ will get you right sour looks in this house. Oh, dear, it was more than just ill temper. Touga loved to pick fights, especially with folks that were stronger than him. The stronger the better actually. Oh, he was the meanest boy in this part of the territory! I remember Sesshoumaru-dono tanning his hide more than once, but it didn't do a lick of good."

Amayami smiled sardonically. "He should have tried punching him in the face." She made a throw away gesture, waving off Cho's baffled expression. "I'm going for a walk."

Cho sighed in disappointment and pressed a hand to her cheek. "I have chores to finish, so I suppose it's for the best. Oh, perhaps, you can help me with my embroidery this evening?"

Amayami rose to her feet, an apology weighing on her tongue. She was no prim and proper lady who had spent her childhood behind an embroidery frame. Instead, she had been reared on the battlefield with a sword in her hand. For a moment, she wondered what her life would have been like had there not been a war.

Would she have been like her cousins, wiling away the days with koto lessons and embroidery without a solitary care in the world? Or would she have still donned armor and fought alongside her father to defend their territory?

"I don't know how," she admitted, long after Cho had stopped waiting for a response. "My mother died when I was very young." Her voice was soft and even. "I had nursemaids and a governess, but they were more bodyguards than mothers."

"Oh," Cho breathed, realizing she had just been told something deeply intimate. She had other questions, but they all died without asking. She would ask Touga later, she decided, and if he had no answers, at least his curiosity would be piqued. "Can you read?"

Amayami furrowed her brows in confusion. The question struck her as odd, mostly for its earnest sincerity. "Of course," she replied, stepping out onto the narrow porch. Sighing, she leaned against the waist high railing and clasped her hands around the polished wood.

"My mother had wanted me to become a scholar, but…" She frowned, wondering why the mother she barely knew sprang so quickly to her thoughts. "Can't you?"

"Read?" Cho asked after joining her outside on the porch. "Well, some, I guess. I know what the humans call women's script, but most of Sesshoumaru-dono's manuscripts are written in kanji. Oh! I know. Maybe we could work out a trade? I'll teach you to how embroider and then you can read to me. How does that sound?"

Amayami frowned, but was mostly amused. Embroidery or anything else so mundane had never interested her. Such skills were useful, but not nearly as appealing as mathematics, astronomy, or the literature she was exposed to as a child. "The trade you propose is not to either of our benefits. It would be far more prudent for you to master kanji rather than depend on another to read to you." She raised a hand to silence Cho's protest. "And I already have more seamstresses than I know what to do with."

"But wouldn't it be more prudent for you to master embroidery, rather than depend on another to do your mending? Cho noted Amayami's quick grin and mirrored it. "You're poking fun at me."

Back braced against the railing, Amayami pushed to her feet. Her eyes narrowed and she tapped a finger to her lips as if trying to beat back a smile. "Would I tease the cousin of my dear husband?"

"Touga has nothing to do with it," Cho scoffed. "You're just…just…"

Amayami lifted a brow, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "I'm just what?"

Cho laughed and covered her mouth with one hand. "You're the most perplexing child I've ever met. One moment you're giving me a stern tongue lashing and in the next you're stabbing me with your wit."

"Better my wit than my sword, I think," Amayami mused, hiking her kimono above her knees. With easy grace, she hopped from the porch and landed on the scrubbed cobblestones. She spun on her heel, twelve layers of silk swung at her sides, fluttering down to cover her bare feet. "Perhaps, I merely seem perplexing because you're too accustomed to the mundane."

"Even your barbs are half in jest." Cho scrutinized Amayami for a few moments and tried to picture her in armor instead of silk and brocade. The image was enough to make her chest ache. "That kimono swallows you."

"It's fine." Amayami straightened and stiffened, posing her arms until her garments fell into the proper angles. After a moment, she smiled and stared unblinking, like a wide-eyed doll. "Perhaps I should wear my boots so that my hems don't drag along the ground."

Cho shook her head, frowning. "No, it isn't fine. You could fit Touga in there with you."

"Now wouldn't that be a sight?" Amayami asked ruefully, trying not to frown as she smoothed her slim hands down her clothes. The kimono was a gift from her father and had fit perfectly before her wedding. She clasped her hands to her belly and wondered if more than just her identity was fading away. "I'm going for a walk."

"Oh!" Cho smacked her own forehead in exasperation. "I've been babbling when I should have been getting you into your shoes. Hold on! I'll only be a moment." She darted back through the door.

"Our library at the Western Hold is rather limited," Amayami called, standing on tiptoe to see Cho fling open the wardrobe. Lifting her brows, she wondered why Cho was content to play handmaiden, but decided speculation would be less taxing than an inquiry. "Sometimes I have to search all day to find something interesting enough to read."

"That Touga for you," Cho called back, hands on hips, huffing she scoured the room. "If it can't be used to gut someone, he doesn't care. Of course until recently he wasn't home enough to bother with a library. Now, where did I see your shoes?"

"I suppose," Amayami said, tilting her head back, watching the clouds billow across the sky that just yesterday was soggy and gray. The ground was sodden, but quickly drying the high noon sun and the air was warm. She sighed, pushing away her melancholy. It was too lovely a day to be stuck indoors.

"Rarely do I find anything in our library worth reading, but when I do, I read it aloud so I may commit it to memory. I would be tempted to do likewise here, should I find something interesting."

"Well, we have plenty of old scrolls here. Trunks of them, so maybe you'll find something," Cho began testily and then paused, grinning as comprehension set in. "I could leave a few in my sewing room."

When there was no reply, Cho turned and saw Amayami walking down the path, already halfway to the stables. Her long sleeves swung at her sides, fluttering with her hair in the breeze as her feet stepped so quickly that they barely touched the ground. Cho moved to the edge of the porch and leaned over the rail, watching as Amayami walked away on legs that longed to run.

"Hey, girl!"

Cho looked up and pushed her hair back from her face as Haru stepped from around the house. Grinning, he lifted the hoe he had been carrying and slung it over his shoulder. "Do we have any of that sake left over from the master's victory celebration?"

"Hmm." Cho pursed her lips, her eyelids heavy with skepticism. "I don't call the two of you drinking 'til dawn a _celebration, _but yes, we have plenty."

"Ah now, It wasn't jus' the two of us. I recall you drinking your fair share." Haru's grin broadened until dimples appeared in his lined cheeks. "An' it wasn't so much a celebration as a memorial to mark the end of the master's bad behavior."

"Do you really believe that?" Cho looked askance at him. "Do you really believe he'll be satisfied with just the West? Do you know what I heard the last time I visited Miyu-hime? People are convinced that as soon as his army is rested and replenished, he plans to invade the central plains."

"Fool talk," Haru muttered through gritted teeth. "There ain't nothing there but horses an' farmland." Even as the words left his lips, he had his doubts, and from the look on Cho's face, so did she.

"And the Marshlands were just a swamp," she reminded, plowing her hands through her hair before letting them fall limply to the wooden railing. "I know you love Touga, but I can't help… Oh, what possessed him to marry a girl so young?"

Haru wheezed a humorless laugh. Cho, for all her feigned sophistication, still held the ideals of the country folk at heart. "Eh, you know the daiyoukai and their politics. They're always worryin' about who's marrying who, blood purity, and all that doesn't mean nothing in the end. The Lady is Takayuki-dono's heir and has the backbone to prove it. It's a good match, 'specially since the master's already sweet on her."

Hands on hips, Cho bent at the waist, leaning forward until her nose was inches from her grandfather's. "That's another reason we don't need to be unfurling the victory banners."

Haru released a breath and it washed warmly over her face, stirring wisps of her silvery hair. "Banners?" Haru repeated, feigning innocence. "I didn't say a word about no banners. I'm jus' wanting a little sake with my supper."

Angling her chin, Cho scowled at the plot she saw forming in her grandfather's eyes. "You," she spat, poking his chest with one slender finger. "Just want to brag on Cousin, don't you?"

Haru blinked and confirmed her statement with a crooked grin. "An' what's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that?" she repeated, punctuating every word with a jab of her finger. "Oh, nothing, I'm sure Amayami-sama would love to hear all about how well Touga slaughtered her people."

"Damn girl! Stop it! You got fire-pokers for fingers!" Haru yelped, lifting his shoulders protectively as he rubbed his chest. "An' I wasn't gonna mention any of that. There is a lot more to the master than fighting and fucking."

"Try telling him that!" Cho pressed her lips together into fine line, silencing her unruly tongue. She had seen the tears Amayami had tried to conceal and was furious on her behalf. "He's a good person, Grandfather. He only chooses to be a bastard, and that makes him far worse."

"Aw, well," Haru muttered, staring down at his shuffling feet. Cho's tendency to speak the utmost truth was one of her best qualities and greatest faults. "You and him grew up together, so you got better insight into what he is. Me, all I know is what he could be."

Cho sighed loudly, throwing up her hands. "I swear you're as stubborn as a he-goat," she said with exasperated affection. Arguing with Haru would end in hurt feelings and little else. She looked at him down the bridge of her nose. "I have chores to do and that garden isn't going to weed itself. Go on you, and bring in some more ginger root when you're done."

"Careful, girl. You look just like your mama with your jaw stuck out like that." Haru chuckled as she softened her expression. "That's better. Ah, I'll get your roots for you. Talk sweet to me and I might find you some of those berries you're so fond of."

She slanted him a look. "The purple ones?" she asked, hooked. "It's awful early in the season."

"Yep, purple with the red splotches." Haru grinned as he pulled his straw hat down over his eyes. "Found some in that hot house I rigged up last fall. Them berries are your favorite, aren't they, girl?

She chewed her lower lip, trying not to smile. Mist berries! She had been craving those berries since the beginning of spring and her grandfather damn well knew it. "You know they are."

"I thought so." He peered at her from under the brim of his hat. "I might be able to gather a few. Sure is hot, thirsty work, though."

Cho released a sigh of defeat. "All right, all right," she said, shooing him away. "I'll leave you a jar in the kitchen, but only if you promise to go easy on the war stories."

"I was never in a war, so I got no tales to tale." Shrugging, he launched himself from the porch with surprising nimbleness. "I know plenty of other stories though." He gave her a measured stare. "You kids were a mess with all your fussin' and fightin'."

_How very typical_, she thought in exasperation and pursed her lips. "Are you telling me not to pick on my poor little cousin?"

"Naw, I ain't tellin' you nothing. If you got troubles with the master, then you work them out with the master. Me, I'm stayin' away from you two pit hounds."

"Very wise of you," Cho said, one corner of her mouth inching up. If Touga wanted a confrontation, she would gladly grant him one. In fact, she had been aiming for a fight since he arrived the night before. She sighed. As much as Touga infuriated her, they had been raised together, and were practically siblings. He was the favored son gone rotten, but she loved him nonetheless. "But I'm fairly sure you've already given him a dressing down he won't soon forget."

Just when Cho had begun to think he had forgotten how, Haru smiled. "Yeah, I gave him a talking to," Haru admitted, glumly. "Pity the rocks in his head rattle so loud he can't hear none. Well, I'll be gettin' out of your way, girlie. Be careful if you go near the stables. That dragon of the master's is right surly. Call me when supper's ready, will you?"

Cho nodded, watching as he ambled back towards to garden. "He hears, Grandfather," she said to herself as she slipped back into the empty bedroom. "He just doesn't listen."

Struggling to saddle Ichi-ni, Touga did not realize Amayami had entered the stables until she appeared beside him. He jumped involuntarily and dropped one of the bridles.

"Shit." He glowered down at the bridle before dropping the second at his feet. Meeting her eyes, he blew out a noisy, aggravated breath. "Whatever you need, go ask Haru or Cho."

Amayami raised a mocking eyebrow. "Yes, I'm certain Haru-san could explain why you're treating me like a whore." Turning on her heel, she stalked off, and was almost to the door when he lunged for her.

He grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into him, and for a moment they stood in silence, measuring. Her eyes were reddened from the tears she denied and his were dim with the uncertainties he could no longer conceal. Another moment passed, then another. Then for reasons she could explain to no one, much less herself, Amayami tilted her head and brushed her lips lightly against his.

Startled, Touga gasped, drawing in the barest wisp of her breath and felt a frisson of warmth rush through him as if he had just sipped a fine wine. It left him dazed and light-headed as he leaned down to take her mouth with his own. The kiss was tentative; teasing at first as hers had been, then grew powerful and commanding. His hands splayed against her back, pulling her closer as her hands slid up and around his neck.

"Perhaps, he could also explain why you've been avoiding me most of the day."

Her words sounded so much like an accusation that Touga almost shoved her away, but the underlying sorrow, the genuine hurt, in her eyes bade him to hold her close and press a soft kiss to bridge of her nose.

"I wasn't avoiding you," he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers. "You asked me to leave you alone."

Touga watched her expression grow distant, thoughtful in a way that he had once foolishly mistaken for apathy. Then she smiled, not the serene, practiced curl of lips she reserved for court, but the slightly crooked grin that was purely her own, and sank deeply into his arms. "So, I left you alone."

Amayami rubbed her cheek against his chest. Feeling the heat of his skin beneath his kosode made her wish she had taken Cho's suggestion to change clothes. She felt silly, like a little girl playing dress up in her bare feet and elaborate robes, and longed for her sturdy boots and better fitting clothes.

"Since when have you listened to me?" she muttered, wincing at the bitterness in her voice as she pulled away. She took three steps back, treading on her hems as she moved, and fixed her eyes upon the partially saddled dragon. "Where are you going?"

Touga crossed his arms over his chest and pressed his lips together in a firm, forbidding line. "I always listen. I just don't always agree with you," he said with a calculated charm that left her torn between smiling and gouging his eyes from their sockets. "I'm going investigate the bandits camped out in the forest."

"You mean kill them," she said, frowning in disdain as he threw a saddle blanket over Ichi-ni's broad back. "I thought Haru-san said they were only travelers."

Touga dismissed the first part of her statement. He was lord and the horse youkai were trespassers on his land. It was within his rights to deal with them in any manner he chose. He only wished the rationalization would allow him to meet Amayami's eyes. "Haru thinks the best of people, unless given a reason to believe otherwise." He forced his eyes to hers and smiled without humor. "Sometimes even after."

"And you believe that makes him foolish." Amayami scrutinized him with narrowed eyes and then, seeming to find her answer, she sighed and shook her head. She clucked her tongue twice and then jabbed a finger in the direction of the back pasture. "Ichi. Ni. Outside."

The dragon snorted, then lumbered towards the door without so much as a glance at Touga. As he watched the dragon trot out the open gate, tail waving happily, Touga gritted his teeth so hard they creaked. "You've ruined him."

"How so?" Amayami asked with faint amusement. "He's obedient and—"

"You've turned him into a pet!"

Amayami laughed and he wanted to strangle her. "Forgive me, Inu no taishou," she said, ice coating her voice. "I was raised to appreciate kindness over the lash." She looked away for a moment, and then stared back at him blankly. "I'm going home. If I ride quickly enough, I can still meet with the Northern Council."

Touga was silent for a moment, still seething with rage, but he realized that for once Amayami was not the source of his irritation. It was his mother, his father, this place and its memories.

"No, you're not," he said carefully, less sure than he had intended. "You hate my stronghold and if it weren't for that accursed treaty, you would have left the first time you didn't get your way."

Her eyes were empty pools in her pale face. "Do you honestly believe I care one whit about your treaty?" She closed the distance between them and cupped his cheeks in her hands. "I stay for the sake of my people."

Touga caught her arms and pinned them to her sides. His claws dug into the tender bend of her elbows. "Your people are mine. You are mine. You go where I tell you, when I tell you."

"You're already a bastard, Touga," she whispered, smiling nastily. "You don't have to play the fool as well."

She was baiting him, Touga realized, but fell into her trap regardless. Perhaps because the struggle to break free of her snare, although futile, was as pleasurable as being caught. "Who is more the fool, _Inu no hime_?"

Inu no hime was her official title, but she had always found it pretentious and redundant. Everyone knew who she was, and if a person did not, then he was either misinformed or beneath her notice. "Don't call me that," Amayami snapped, but was more entertained than irritated. "Unlike you, I don't need a title to feel important."

A thought flowed over Touga's features as he slid his hands down the length of her arms, grasping her fingers for a long moment before letting go. He stepped away and scooped Ichi-ni's abandoned saddle from the straw covered ground, holding it protectively against his chest. "So, what do you need?"

The question caught her off guard, but she decided to answer it anyway. "Oh, I…" She frowned, weighing her words, and decided there was little to be lost with the truth. If she could make him understand, it was worth an ounce of her pride, perhaps more. "I was lonely."

Touga hid his surprise by busying himself returning Ichi-ni's saddle to its stand. Inwardly he reeled, positively giddy at the prospect that Amayami might long for his company, but something told him there was more to her words. Nothing with Amayami was ever simple. "I thought Cho was with you."

Amayami stared at him for a moment, and he could sense that was measuring him, evaluating. "She was. And while I did enjoy her company this afternoon, she wasn't the one who fucked me on the floor."

Touga rolled his eyes skyward and counted slowly to ten. He should have known better than to leave Amayami with the one person that would encourage her unseemly behavior. "I see you two spoke."

"We traded a few words," she parried flatly, giving him a smoking glare over her shoulder. "You would have known that if you hadn't been sulking around out here."

"All right, Amayami," he said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "I promise to never listen to you again. Happy?"

Amayami cast another baleful glare over her shoulder. "You picked a strange time to start listening to me," she spat and fought the urge to truly lambaste him. She would not lower herself to caterwauling for his attention, but he would understand that avoiding her was inexcusable. "You should also realize that the last thing I wanted was to be left alone with a stranger."

Cursing beneath her breath, she closed her mouth with a click of her teeth and turned fully away from him. She heard the crunch of straw behind her and knew that Touga had stepped up behind her. He took her shoulders in his hands and gave them a little squeeze, silently urging her to continue. She sighed, and released her words in a rush of air. "Two months ago, every servant, every vassal within the territory was my sworn enemy."

"Including me?" Strangely, it hurt him to ask, even though he knew the answer.

She smiled softly, then lifted a hand and pretended to brush the hair from her eyes. Touga knew the gesture hid her need to brush her fingers over the moon mark on her brow. She always did that when worried or upset, which as of late was often. Her clawed fingers brushed against her hairline, lingering for a moment, then smoothed down her face to fall limply at her side. "Especially you."

Touga faltered then, although only a little, and reached around to take her hand. "I'm not your enemy," he said finally, helpless and wishing he could make her believe him. At the same time he knew that a few months ago, before her father's surrender and before the signing of the treaty, he would have killed her without a second thought. "And you're not mine."

To his amazement, she turned and pressed herself against him. "Are you certain?" she whispered, slipping her arms around his waist. "Most people think we'll kill each other before summer's end."

"We're not--"

Just then, Haru's voice, loud and echoing, as if he were standing within one of the stalls, boomed around them. "Lord!" he hollered from somewhere to the left. "If you want hot water tonight, you better get that wood chopped. Oh, and after you're done with that there's a leaky roof that needs fixin'"

Groaning, Touga looked shiftily from side to side as if he were planning to duck for cover. "Haru."

The corners of Amayami's mouth tugged upward as her eyes widened with a fake gasp. "Touga!" she chided in the same tone she would have used with Ichi-ni. "You're not hiding from Haru-san, are you?"

"No!" Touga stiffened, and then straightened to almost his full height before making a sound suspiciously like a whimper and sagging against her. "Don't let him find me!"

"My poor husband," she teased, stroking his head as if he were a pet. "He fought countless enemies and survived insurmountable odds, only to be felled by an old man with a rake."

Touga shifted easily, balancing his weight back and forth between his feet. The movement caused the neckline of her kimono to slip down over one shoulder, revealing an expanse of creamy flesh. He wanted to strip away her finery and run his hands over her, exploring each slender curve, but after this morning, he was fearful of hurting her again. Only Amayami could be both powerful and fragile. Just as only she could make him uncertain enough to doubt his every action.

"It's a hoe."

Amayami looked stricken. "No wonder you're hiding."

"I'm not hiding," he grinned, his eyes dancing. Despite his protests to the contrary, he loved when Amayami teased him. "I just don't want to chop wood or climb on the roof or pick berries or whatever else he thinks must be done before sunset."

"Hmm…I see. That's quite the problem. Unfortunately, I know nothing about fixing roofs. I don't know about you, but I'm rather fond of hot baths. So, I suppose, I'll chop the wood." As she spoke, she combed her fingers through his long silvery hair. "Of course, you could always tell Haru-san that those things will wait until tomorrow."

"Or I could take you to the village for your bath." When he looked up, she took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. Her lips were warm and soft, flitting over his skin with the barest pressure. He knew it for what it was --a truce. For a fleeting moment, it occurred to him that he could deny her, and perhaps even should. She was sullen and argumentative, and she refused to give him a fraction of the respect he deserved. She was also lonely, sad, and although she mocked him ruthlessly, uncertain.

"It's behind the mountain," he murmured, wishing he could calm the anxiety lurking within her eyes. The people were once loyal to my father--"

Sunlight spilled into the dimly lit stables as the side door rattled open. With a wordless cry, Amayami grabbed Touga's hand and took to her heels, bolting just as Haru entered the stables. "Boy, I've been callin' you for an hour."

"Shit!" Touga laughed, as he was half-dragged at a run from the stables and into the meadow. She reared to left, speeding towards the estate proper, and he was again surprised by her sheer strength and agility. She was a good head shorter with a much smaller stride, yet it was all he could to keep up with her breakneck pace. A shiver of awe rippled through him as he wondered what sort of creatures could have spawned Amayami.

She stopped suddenly, hardly winded, and sprang to one side of one of the outer buildings, pressing her back flat against its wooden frame. She grew still and silent, the stance of a predator, listening to sounds in the distance. Then after a moment, she breathed a deep sigh of mock relief. "We lost him."

Before she could release his hand, he pulled her forward with such vigor that she fell into his chest. Wordlessly, he crushed her to him and sought her lips. Amayami returned his kiss with equal fervor, her heart pounding in her chest, but not from exertion. When his lips left hers, she could not resist teasing. "Do you kiss all your rescuers?"

Touga jerked his hand free, eyeing her as if he expected her to attack the moment his back was turned, and sidestepped out of reach. "No."

"Truly?" Amayami raised a skeptical brow, but her eyes glinted with amusement. "I suppose, you mean to tell me that you've never been so foolish as to fall into a situation beyond your abilities."

He gave a snort of laughter then rubbed his chin ruefully, watching her with intent eyes. "No one has ever been foolish enough to rescue me."

She had expected him to pout in that maddening way of his, but instead there was only grim amusement and very little boasting. Without a second thought, Amayami opened her arms and he went to her. True, he was the Inu no Taishou, the slaughterer of her people, but he was also Touga, and the man who was slowly worming her way into her heart.

"Then I suppose the duty falls to me."

With a harsh laugh, he turned his face into her neck, his breath warming her throat. He kissed the corner of her jaw and pulled away to look her in the eye. "You mean burden."

She gave a little sad smile, her eyes glittering and far away. "What's the difference? Duty is merely a burden with a noble end."

Touga began to speak, but stopped. There was no denying the subtle truth in her words. "And sometimes without."

"Most times without," she said, meeting his eyes, tone full of meaning. "If duty was always pleasant, it would have very little meaning."

Silence hung between them, heavy with things unsaid. He trailed a fingertip down her face, tracing the soft curve of her bottom lip. "Tell me how to make you happy, Maya. At least give me some hint. Everything I try is wrong."

There was sorrow in her eyes, and a little bit of anger, but mostly deep contemplation. "Let me see you," she said, after a long while, and then pressed her palm over his heart. "I want to know the man I was forced to marry."

He covered her hand with his, pressing her palm into his chest until she could feel the beating of his heart. For a moment, it felt as though she were holding his soundly beating heart within her palm. He held her eyes. "This is me."

When she tried to pull away, he kissed her, melding her body against his. A cold rush of resentment ached deep within her, but when his lips moved against hers with infinite tenderness, she crushed it ruthlessly. "Are you certain?"

"Yes," he murmured, lips moving along her throat in a whispered caress. "I'm nothing more or less than what stands before you."

He knew when she pulled away, smiling sadly and shaking her head, that he had disappointed her in some manner. Amayami perceived things in ways he could not fathom. At first, he had thought it because she was so young and headstrong. She was difficult to the point where the tactician within him knew that he would be better off relinquishing his claim on her. Send her back to the east or exile her with her father, anything so long as she was far, far away.

"If that were true, our lives would be so much easier," Amayami said, startling him from his reverie. "There is nothing in the treaty that states I must live in your home or even let you touch me—"

"It's a marriage contract, Amayami!" Touga snarled and jerked away from her, hating that she had voiced what he was thinking. He only wished he could read her half as well. "Touching you is implied!"

Amayami sucked in a breath, feeling the rush of air chill her teeth and tongue. _So he paws me because he can_, she thought wryly, wondering why she even considered otherwise. "I find it most peculiar that you would court the implications of a document you have consistently violated."

"Enough riddles, Amayami." Touga grit his teeth and growled at her. "Get to the point."

Anger boiled in her chest, but she managed to keep a straight face. "I'm not one of your whores to be browbeaten!" She paused to draw a calming breath, but it only served to further infuriate her. "Unless you truly wish me to believe you a fool, I shall assume that you simply overlooked the stipulation in which you swore to grant me your protection and loyalty!"

"And you swore to grant me your strength and courage," Touga said softly, holding her eyes, and then shrugged. "It's a typical marriage contract, Amayami. Formal, pretentious, and barely worth the parchment it's written on."

Her face fell, just slightly, but enough that he knew she had misinterpreted his words. What he meant to say was that their marriage contract was the foundation of their union, not the entirety. There might come a time when he would need her protection, just as surely as she would need his strength. He rolled the words in his mind, trying to form coherent sentences, but all his attempts failed. While he might claim to be more intelligent than most, he was at a loss when it came to Amayami.

"I see," Amayami spat at last, her voice explosive in the tense silence, her pale eyes flat and impenetrable. "It seems I know exactly where you stand!"

As she pivoted on her heel, Touga lurched for her and grabbed the ends of her long sleeves. "Let go," she hissed through clenched teeth, cursing him and her unruly clothes. She swiped at his wrist, purposely missing, but came close enough that he jerked back with a hiss. "I've had more than enough of you!"

They glared at each other for several moments, he cradling his uninjured wrist, while she smoothed her rumbled sleeve. Then she sighed and covered her face with one had. "You're driving mad."

Risking her wrath, and quite possibly his hand, he reached up and began to stroke her hair, feeling the silken strands glide between his fingers. "I don't want to fight with you."

"Then agree with me!"

Touga opened his mouth, a heated retort on his tongue, but stopped short and gaped at her. "I suppose," he bit out with some difficultly, keeping his eyes fixed warily on her.

Amayami's expression was surprised, but there was the start of a smile on her lips. He matched it, slowly at first, then broadening into a grin as her shoulders began to shake with uncontained giggles. "But then, that would be logical," she said, trying to rein in her laughter, but the more she tried, the harder it became.

"We can't have that, can we?" Touga asked, smiling, but serious, after her laughter had diminished to a few lonely chuckles. "I gather that it's my loyalty that's in question. When have I ever given you a reason to doubt?"

She smiled wryly. "Do you truthfully need to ask?"

"I'm a man, Amayami," he pointed out, holding up his hands in surrender, and grinned with an enough mischief that she rolled her eyes. "I have needs."

"Apparently one of your _needs_ is to fuck every able-bodied female in the providence," she countered, raising a brow and smirking. "Of course, after this morning I find myself feel rather sympathetic towards your lovers."

His smile was not a friendly one. "Hold your sympathy until you've had more than one, Amayami."

"You're quite right," Amayami agreed with the greatest of clarity. "You were my first and only, so I have no standards from which to judge. So…" she paused, deliberately striving to irritate him. "When we return to home, I shall take a lover--"

His sudden, furious growl told her that she had succeeded far beyond her expectations, but she felt no triumph, only a dizzying sense of doubt. "Ichiro of the wolf clan is rather handsome, if a bit crude," she pressed on, smiling to hide her own distaste. "I'll wager he has amazing stamina. Then there is--"

"You're not to lay with other man for so long as I live!" Touga roared, caring little that he might be overheard. "Not with that mangy wolf youkai or anyone else! I could not bear it!"

"And yet, you expect me to endure your indiscretions," she said lightly, sensing the subtle shift in power his anger had brought, but she could not enjoy it for long. A moment later, shame washed over her and with it came the realization that she would never act upon her declaration. Touga was an undeniable bastard, but he was also her husband and the first man she had considered wanting. Perhaps for no other reason than he was the first man to dare to want her.

Slowly, Touga's voice came to her, cutting through the haze of her thoughts and she realized he had been speaking—raving in reality—the last several moments. She blinked at him, shaking her head and tried to pick up the thread of their conversation.

"Stamina," he seethed, spitting the word out as if it tasted foul. It was difficult to tell whether he was offended or simply baffled. "Just how do you know about the stamina of men?"

Amayami lifted her eyebrows to her hairline. For such a worldly man, Touga was bit of prude. "I've heard things," she said defensively, folding her arms over her chest. "As you recall, I did have a life before I married you."

Although he knew that he was Amayami's first and only, Touga was anything but convinced. The idea of another man just looking at her, much less touching her, left him incensed with jealousy. "Then, I should mind to whom you speak to from now on," he snapped carelessly. "I won't have others putting ideas in your head."

She laughed at him then, deeply scornful. "Oh, Inu no Taishou, it would take more than your dim witted lackeys sway my thinking." She covered her mouth with her hand, hiding her smile, but her eyes continued to glare. "I might be a princess, but I was raised on the battlefield with soldiers as my constant companions. I've heard things that would make would make even you blush."

He drew close to her and laid his hands on her arms. When she tilted her head up to look at him, his lips claimed hers. The kiss was hard and commanding at first, then grew in tenderness as the moments passed. Eagerly, she slipped her hands into his kosode, feeling his warm skin, the hard planes of his chest beneath her fingers. Her hips melded against his, her welcome unmistakable.

"You won't take a lover," he murmured, nuzzling her trembling lips, his voice full of male confidence. He bent his head to kiss the place where her pulse jumped. "It's me you want. We both know that."

"Are you certain?" she murmured, challenging even as felt her traitorous body readying for him. "Perhaps your lust has blinded you to the truth. You haven't exactly been subtle with your intentions."

"When I see something I want, I try to acquire it by any means necessary." He shrugged at her obvious distaste. "Why waste time dallying when you can just take what you want and be done with it?"

"Yes," she said, drawing out the word, "which explains why you're known for flinging women into bed by their hair."

Touga had the good grace to look abashed. "It was one time, with one girl, and if you had met Aya you would have understood," he grumbled.

He turned away to glare at Cho, who was hanging laundry in the distance. "I can't believe she told you." Or rather he could, because Cho was a meddlesome old hag, and had been since they were both children.

Naming himself a fool, he sighed and turned back to face Amayami. "What else did she say?" he asked, using his most cordial smile.

"Cho?" Amayami smiled, obviously not convinced. "Very little, or quite a lot, I have to admit I wasn't really listening. Although, she seems to feel rather strongly that you don't treat me as well as I deserve."

"And you agree?"

Her smile was all the answer he required. "Amayami, you share my lands and title, my wealth and reputation." He stepped forward, towering over her, and grit his teeth. "You are the princess of the dog clans and the future mother of my child! I'm not going to replace you with some bitch that happens to stumble in and out of my bed!"

As he spoke, tears escaped from her, chasing each other down the curves of her cheeks. She hiccupped a sob, and then swallowed the next, refusing to allow it to be uttered. "You really don't understand do you?" she asked, looking into his widened eyes. Her voice was broken, defeated, and so very hollow.

Stunned, he eased his hand behind her neck and gently pulled her closer. She stumbled, moving stiffly towards him, but not completely resisting. She stared at him for a moment, eyes wide and glassy, and then pressed her body against his.

"Shh," Touga murmured and stroked her hair, whispering tiny words of endearment as her breath came in staggered gasps. After a moment, when she had calmed, he realized he was whispering things his mother used to croon to him. In that moment, he recalled his mother's hands, her loving touch when he was too young to spend much time at his father's side. "I don't think I've ever seen you cry."

"I'm not crying!" she snapped, shoving away with a curse. Her eyes were fierce, denying the tears drying on her cheeks. "And I don't care who or what you fuck! You can start screwing that dragon of yours for all I care!"

Touga almost choked, but recovered quickly. "Forgive me," he said in a measured ending in a hiss. He knew her words were little more than irrational ravings, but they stung regardless. "Forgive me if I have misinterpreted every third conversation we've had since our wedding day!"

She snorted, giving him her back. "Leave me alone."

"I would," he said, stepping around to face her. He grinned when she turned, once again, and then again and again, each time he moved in front of her. "But as you recall, the last time I did you nearly chewed my head off."

She laughed just a little at that and covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes far away. "I don't know what I want anymore."

Touga took a deep breath, relieved that she had calmed, and was at once lanced by guilt. He never thought he could drive her to tears. "If my concubines truly bother you so much—"

"Keep them," she said without emotion. "Hire a dozen more. I don't care. They're the least of our problems and I've wasted far too much time fretting over them."

"It's about fuckin—" he stopped gloating forcibly, uncertain of his victory, and made a helpless gesture with his hands. "Then what's wrong? Speak plainly, Amayami. You're talking in circles."

"That's because my thoughts are chasing each other." One corner of her mouth hitched up in the parody of a smile. "Part of me says we're moving far too fast."

He captured her hand in his, nestling his thumbs in her palms. "And?"

_The rest of me loves it when you kiss me, _she thought, and then shoved it aside to embrace one that was far more painful. "I realize now that I obsessed over your concubines so I wouldn't have to think about how you murdered my people."

"It was war-"

"And that makes it right in your mind?" Amayami thumped his chest with enough force to bruise. Her eyes were fierce, denying the tear tracks on her cheeks. "You hunted men, women, and children down like animals! You slaughtered entire refugee camps, searching for one person who might hold a bit of information! Every day of every week, I would fend off your soldiers, not from military targets, but from farms and temples! From any place my people could have found hope or some semblance of normalcy! When you couldn't crush their bodies, you tried to crush their spirits! And I swore that if I ever found you, I'd cut your throat and drive a knife through your black heart!"

"Amayami!"

Someone was screaming, grinding at her frazzled nerves, and Amayami was only dimly aware that it was her. "Damn it," she rasped, her breasts heaving as she took in great gasps of air. With her rage gone, there was only grief and bone-deep confusion. "Why can't I hate you?"

The ensuing silence was more painful than any words he could have said. Amayami stood perfectly still, indignation and misery warred within her as Touga watched her with quiet contemplation.

When he finally spoke, his voice was bland. "After that, I'm not convinced that you don't." He raised his hand, silencing her protest. "The past is past, Amayami. There is nothing I can do to change it."

"I know you can't." She looked at him, eyes bright and thoughtful, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flash of pity in her expression. "Just like I can't forget and won't pretend I have. Not any more. I was forced to accept you as my husband, but I know what you are."

Her eyes followed his down to her bare toes peeking out from under the muddy hem of her kimono. "Shit!" she gasped, hiking up her kimono almost to her knees. During her seemingly nonstop argument with Touga, she had completely forgotten that she was barefoot. It was such a trivial thing, but after today, enough to make her throat tighten with tears.

Touga stared at her for a moment, looking as lost and as vulnerable as she felt, then scooped her up into his arms. She began to protest, then simply sighed and secured her arms around his neck. Her anger was like flash fire-- quick, painful, and over in an instant.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Remaining infuriatingly silent, Touga carried her around the building and through an open doorway at the top of a short flight of steps. Amayami twisted around in his arms, surveying her surroundings, as he slid the door closed behind them with his foot. The room was perfectly square and with tall narrow windows paned with exotic colored glass. Woven mats and a multitude of brightly colored cushions carpeted the wooden floor, mirroring the colors in the windows like jewels. It was beautiful and unlike anything Amayami had ever seen.

Bit by curiosity, she tried to wriggle free from Touga's arms, but he held her fast, refusing to budge. She tensed in part from anticipation as he lowered her to the pile of cushions near the back window. She tried to rise almost immediately, but he firmly sat her back down.

"Stay," he commanded, laying a finger across her lips. "I'll be right back."

After he had strode from the room, closing the behind him, she allowed herself fall back amongst the soft cushions. She closed her eyes, feeling the edge of exhaustion eat away at consciousness. Sleep called to her, but she resisted, her mind too preoccupied to succumb. She pressed a hand over her breast, feeling the rapid beat of her heart, and wondered if it were breaking. Things would be so much easier if she could still hate him.

When she heard the door slid open, then closed again, she propped herself up on her elbows and frowned at Touga. He stood a few feet from her, holding an ancient bucket with one hand, his expression gentle as she had ever seen.

"Where are your shoes?" he asked.

The question brought a flush to her cheeks and made her feel like a disobedient child. "In the house," she admitted, hiding her muddy feet beneath the equally muddy hem of her kimono. "I didn't expect the ground to be so wet."

"That usually happens the morning after a storm." He set the bucket down beside the cushions, and only then did she realize it was half filled with water. Then he knelt beside Amayami and grasped her foot before she could scoot away. Using a rough square of cloth, he began to wash the mud and grime from her feet and ankles. She watched him, fascinated, as he dipped the rag into bucket and squished it around.

"They'll just get muddy again when I go outside." She made a delighted sound, half-laughter, half-squeal, as he trailed a finger down her instep. His thumb traced the ball of her foot, rubbing in firm circles down to her heel. Then he lifted both her feet together and kissed her ankles.

He lowered her feet back to the pillows, gently as if they were precious, fragile things. "Cho can probably get those stains out of your hems," he said, barely looking at her. "She's good at that sort of thing."

An awkward silence fell between them, thickening as the seconds ticked past. He tried to fill his mind with nothing, with nonsense and small talk, but his thoughts wrapped themselves back to Amayami. He had wronged her, had caused her to suffer unimaginable agony, and had nearly crushed her spirit.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he dismissed it, finding it utterly laughable. His gaze turned to hers as she touched her fingers to the stripe on his cheek. There was no hardness, no grief, in her eyes, only calculated interest. His arms reached up to circle her neck as she drew closer. Their mouths melded together, bodies pressing with desperate hunger. No, Amayami was nowhere near defeated, but rather he had been conquered. _She had won._

Without hesitation, he gave into her kiss, exploring with his tongue until her taste mingled with his. When she jerked his kosode up, he stilled, not in rebuke, but in anticipation. Her hands slid under his clothes, claws trailing briefly along his rib cage. Then, she parted his kosode and pushed it off his shoulders, allowing it to drape messily over his elbows. She kissed his bare shoulder, his collarbone, before sliding her hands down his chest, feeling the taut muscles jump beneath his skin.

His hands circled her waist, thumbs massaging the sleek muscles of her belly. He lowered his mouth and kissed her, long and lingering. His heartbeat quickened, seeming to keep pace with hers. "I should have killed you when I had the chance."

She drew closer to him, sculpting her body around his, entwining her fingers in his hair. "So should've I."

Then her mouth was on his and his hands were on her body, peeling away her clothes as she tore impatiently at his. There were no more words, nothing, but them.

On the outskirts of the forest, downwind from the sensitive noses of the inu youkai he watched, Daisuke shivered and stretched awake. The embers of the meager campfire Keiji had built that morning glowed a dull crimson and offered only the barest amount of warmth. He rubbed his jaw, feeling the rough stubble on his chin. "How long was I asleep?"

"A few hours," Keiji answered as he stepped out from behind a tree. He sat down beside Daisuke and spent a moment stoking the dying fire. It crackled and sizzled, then after much coaxing blazed to life. "Go back to sleep. It'll be dark in a few hours."

"Then it'll be over. One way or another," Daisuke murmured to himself, squinting through the tree, and then heaved a heavy sigh. "At least it quit raining."

Keiji's lips creased in a worried frown. "Now that the storm has blown over, it'll be more difficult to conceal our presence," he pointed out. "We're camped far enough away where they probably won't consider us an immediate threat, but you know, as well as I do, how territorial inu youkai can be."

"Hearsay and nonsense," Daisuke snorted and made a throw away gesture in the direction of the manor. "We say they're territorial and they claim we're all yokels."

"They wage war," Keiji warned, his voice low and his eyes narrowed, "and we raise crops."

Daisuke slumped back against the tree, the corners of his mouth hitching upward. "Ah, I was wondering when you'd be back to your old self. You don't have to come along, Keiji. In fact, I wish you wouldn't. If something goes wrong, I want you to keep searching for Umeko. I owe it her to find out what happened."

Keiji felt his face harden. "We've been over this before. You might be lord, but you're still a boy. I'm not about to let you wander the countryside, getting into trouble. Your late mother would be scandalized."

Daisuke beamed. "And you've done an admirable job so far." His smile faded about the edges and some of the light left his eyes. "Do you think Umeko is okay? I mean, I know she's probably scared, but…"

Keiji closed his eyes, suddenly pained by the knowledge that every answer he could offer condemned his young master to certain death. "Your sister is a young girl," he began, weighing each word, "but she's strong and very bright."

"But there were so many soldiers. They killed father and burned the manor and fields. How could she have survived?"

If there was one thing Keiji could not bear, it was the lost expression in Daisuke's eyes. Now that his father was gone, Umeko had become Daisuke's world, his tenuous hold on sanity. False hope was better than none.

"We didn't find her," Keiji reminded him, animated despite the cold pit in his stomach. "Not in the manor and not in the back fields were she always used to play. We didn't find any signs of a struggle."

"The fire," Daisuke whispered hoarsely. "We didn't find her body after the fire."

"No," Keiji said slowly, drawing the word out to hide his doubt. "We didn't"

Daisuke smiled brokenly, seemingly renewed. "Then she is alive. She has to be."

Keiji wavered slightly, but it might have just been the unsteady light of the campfire. "Perhaps we should look for her ourselves. Abandon this fruitless enterprise before those daiyoukai realize we're here and travel north. It's doubtful this creature you bargain with knows anything. If he did, why keep it from you? What does he have to gain by concealing your sister's whereabouts?"

"He's a daiyoukai." Daisuke smiled and shoved himself to his feet. "It's what they do."

Keiji squared his shoulders and leveled his sharp eyes at him. "That's exactly why you should not be dealing with such a creature! We should leave now, before these dogs realize we're here—"

"They already know." Daisuke smiled as Keiji went pale. "We're just not important enough to bother with." He sighed, closing his eyes, steeling himself. "How much of that sleep weed do we have?"

Keiji scrubbed at his face with one hand, clearly agitated. "Plenty, several dozen sprigs at least. I'll make the tisane when we have her secured. The longer it sets, the less potent it becomes."

Daisuke nodded in understanding. "Just don't make it too strong. We don't want to kill her."

A smile curled at Keiji's lips that could have been weary or bemused, it was impossible to tell. "I worry that it won't be strong enough. Don't think for a moment that the girl is weak, simply because she's female."

"I'm not some dumb human," Daisuke snorted, lifting his upper lip in a grimace. "If the tisane doesn't work, we can always knock her out the old fashioned way." He smacked is his fist into his palm, smirking. "Crude, but effective."

Keiji knew he should not encourage Daisuke, but there was no stopping the grin spreading across his face. "You're going to get through this, Daisuke. I won't let you die."

Daisuke's eyes dulled a little. "Dying would be too easy." He shrugged off Keiji's unvoiced protest and started off into the forest. "I'm going to walk south to get a closer look. I want the men assembled by sunset."

"Yes, Daisuke-sama," Keiji murmured as he watched him disappear into the forest.

"Keiji-dono?"

He rolled his head back, staring at the sky peeking through the leafy canopy above them. "Yes, Taro?"

"I'm done scouting."

"And?" Keiji prompted, angling a glance over his shoulder. If matters were less grim, he might have smiled. The boy rocked back and forth on his heels, exuding enthusiasm. His shock of flame-colored hair was standing straight up and tangled with weeds. Taro looked as though he had run headlong through the underbrush. And knowing Taro, as Keiji well did, he probably had.

"There is a settlement on the other side of the mountain," Taro reported dutifully. He paused to wipe the sweat from his freckled brow. "More dogs, I think, but I couldn't get close enough to smell them."

"That's fine," Keiji said shortly, drawing his knees up under his chin. It probably was not the most dignified of things to do, but considering what he was going to do in just a few short hours, this was no time to split hairs over decorum. "Anything else?"

Taro vigorously shook his head and then blushed, realizing that Keiji was facing away from him. "Nu uh," he stammered, nervously plucking bits of grass and dirt from his yukata. "I mean, there's nothing in either direction within a day's ride."

Keiji watched the fire for a moment, watching the flames crackled and snap as they ate at the last of the kindling. "It's the perfect setting for an assassination," he mused aloud. "A little too perfect."

"Keiji-dono?"

"It's nothing, Taro." Keiji waved the boy off. "Go scout along the west end. If you see Yoshi, tell him I want to speak with him."

Taro gave a quick bow, before darting back into the thick foliage. Daisuke was lord and so the men obeyed him, but over the last few days, they began to look to Keiji for guidance.

Keiji ran his hands through his hair, grabbing fistfuls and pulling. They all, including Daisuke, expected him to keep them alive. But how could he when faced with two daiyoukai, and another who would surely hunt them down if they failed?

But he had to. Somehow he had to thwart a most certain defeat and see Daisuke safely to his aunt in the north. He owed that much to Daisuke's father. But first, he had a tisane to prepare.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve: **

Amayami stirred awake with a stifled yawn, blinking at the faded rays of daylight that were spilling through the stain glass windows. A sliver of moon rose lazily in the sky, announcing the time as somewhere between daylight and nightfall.

More properly, it was dusk and the time that she normally spent within the confines of the dojo. There she would execute endless kata, honing her form to absolute precision, and stew over whose bed she would pry her husband from in the morning.

Certainly not hers, and for that she had been grateful and ashamed, as well as ashamed that she was grateful. But that was at the stronghold, which always felt more like a prison than a home. Here she could doze and dream, and think of the time before her marriage with far less pain.

She had been desperate then, but her goals seemed so simple. Protect her people, their way of life, and to stop the Inu no Taishou's advance on the Eastern provinces. Victory had never been anything she considered, but then again, neither had defeat.

"Defeat is when you are dead," her father had said just before the surrender. "Not before."

And so when Touga declared himself Inu no Taishou and offered her father an armistice, she had been understandably wary. She paid them little heed; the talks would unfold as they always had with Touga demanding too much, too soon and her father would be forced to turn him aside.

Then within a week, perhaps two if they were very lucky, Touga and the fiercely loyal band of marauders he liked to call an honor guard would rampage across her homeland with renewed violence. Men, women, and children, human and youkai alike would fall beneath their claws and blades.

They would spare no one, not the young or the infirmed, nor even the spiritual leaders of the humans who had come to ease the suffering of their people. As cruel irony would have it, their efforts often caused more harm than good.

Temples were second only to refugee camps of the things Touga most loved to ravage.

Amayami jerked and tried to sit up, but Touga flung one heavy arm across her middle and held her down. Sorrow and outrage became shame as the bitter tang of her innate toxins spread across her tongue.

Swallowing, she glanced sideways at his face; it was almost completely buried in a cushion. He was devastatingly handsome in his disheveled glory and undeniably dangerous. Heat scalded her cheeks as something fluttered low within her belly. Only Touga could have such power over her.

"We should get up."

Touga rubbed his cheek against the cushion, and then lifted his head just enough so that one golden eye was visible. "Why?"

Of all things he might have said or asked, none could have befuddled her as greatly as that solitary word. "We should," she began, floundering for a good excuse. Touga shook his head, grinding his face further into the cushion. "It's not proper that…we…Haru-san is looking for us."

With that, she tried to push his arm away, but Touga grumbled something incoherent into the depths of the cushion. He curled his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. His skin was hot and firm, and crisscrossed with fine, angry looking scratches.

As she brushed her fingers against his warm skin memories of the last few hours flowed over her senses. Beneath the warm heaviness of his of body, she had clung to him as he moved above her, inside her, and cried out for him when he came.

It hurt, he had hurt her. By accident or by intent, that pain was nothing compared to the guilt she felt for wanting him. Feeling raw and bruised had become second nature to her. Just like wanting him.

"Get up." Amayami winced when she heard her own voice. It reminded her, achingly so, of the tone she had often used as an officer in her father's army. She missed them now as if they had been her dearest friends, and wished she taken the time to learn their names. "Touga, get up. Now!"

She ground her teeth as a minute, then two, passed without a response. "Touga."

"I heard you the first time," he snapped, rubbing his face against the cushion and yawning. Muttering, he shifted and squirmed until at last he flopped over onto his side. "What _is_ the matter?"

"Nothing," she said, defenseless against the bitterness in her tone. "I want to get up."

His knuckles brushed her cheek with a tenderness that was almost her undoing. "Then get up," he said, tracing the defiant line of her jaw. "Since when have you needed my permission?"

She snorted, but Touga thought he saw a faint smile twist at her lips. "I'm stronger than you think, Inu no taishou."

He crossed his arms behind his head, knowing he was pressing his luck, and allowed his lips to curve into a wicked smirk. "So stay in bed."

Amayami looked back at him blank-faced, and then her eyes flashed. "We are not _in_ bed," she pointed out, snatching up one of the cushions to cover herself. "We're in…"

She glanced around the room, frowning at its sparse furnishing and wide, stained glass windows. In one corner, a bizarre collection of musical instruments was stacked precariously next to a desk littered with scrolls and tiny tubs of ink. It was a room meant for idleness, for leisure, and yet there was subtle sense of passion, of creativity so contrary to her husband's nature that it could not rightly be ignored.

"You're right," she said, smiling softly, sadly, and sat up to hug her knees... "I do hate your stronghold."

Touga balled his hand into a fist and punched the floor. "I know," he said with long, frustrated sigh. "You've made it abundantly clear that you hate everything I do."

He grimaced, fighting a rather unseemly urge to fidget as her eyebrow arched just slightly above its usual elegant curve. No doubt she would lambaste him or at the very least chide him for whining. He knew that her tone would be dry, sardonic, and impossible to tell from insult or jest.

Just as he knew that he would take offense to her words, innocent or not, and make idle threats that were certain to provoke her. Then they would be right back to screaming at each other. He knew this because he knew her, just as he knew himself, and knew that every conversation they had was doomed from the start.

"Once again your powers of observation prove to be more than astounding. In fact…" Amayami paused, finding perverse joy in Touga's growing annoyance. He was such a prideful, impatient little thing that to be denied anything, even a wife's lambasting, was intolerable. "I may even be so bold as to suggest that your powers of observation are second only to your aptitude for exaggeration."

"You may," Touga conceded, fighting the urge to smile. Her words, her tone of voice, mirrored his prediction so accurately that he felt a rush of triumph, followed by the return of his customary smugness. "Or you could drop the pretenses and call me a liar and a braggart."

"I could," she began with equal smugness, "but that would be rude. And I am far more concerned with what you plan to do now that your solitary goal has been accomplished."

Touga opened his mouth to retort, but then closed it with a click of his teeth. She had done it again. With a single question, she had managed to turn the conversation on its axis.

"And what of your goals?" he countered, bristling with indignation. "Despite what you might think, Amayami, I am no fool! I know it takes more than an army to rule an empire."

"On the contrary, barring your bouts of idiocy, I find that you're one of the most intelligent people I have ever encountered." Her lips quirked. "As for whatever goals I may be contemplating…what does it matter? I'm not a tactician."

Touga's brows rose to his hairline and propped himself up on his elbows. "No?"

A laugh bubbled out of her, and then her expression changed, growing as cold and distant as only she could muster.

"Do you love them?" she whispered, tilting her head and smiling as she hugged the cushion tightly to her chest. "Is that why you won't send them away?"

Inexplicably, a chill ran through him and his heart began to thud rapidly in his chest. A lesser being might have called the sensation panic. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Our marriage is a matter of state," Amayami sighed and he thought he heard an undertone of grim amusement in the sound. "All we may hope for is a bit of fondness."

Touga fell silent, ominously so. The planes of his face hardened and his eyes narrowed until only a sliver of gold could be seen through the fringe of his lashes. Then he lashed out and snatched the cushion from her hands.

She raised her eyebrows and drew back enough that the heavy tangle of her hair spilled over her bare breasts. Her eyes hardened into a glare. "Or perhaps not."

Slow with deadly purpose, Touga shifted the cushion from one hand to the other, and then struck her soundly over the head.

"Damn…"

The moment the word left her mouth, Touga blindsided her with the cushion. He pummeled her again and again furiously, until the cushion's seams burst and feathers filled the air.

"You," she seethed, clearly aghast, accidentally inhaling a feather in her indignation. She coughed and wheezed, almost doubling over. "Ass…"

He snatched up another cushion and struck her again, this time hard enough that she tumbled over. She lay there for a moment, sprawled unceremoniously across the cushions, glaring at him through the tangle of her feather-strewn hair.

"Despise me if you wish," he said after a long moment, tossing the pillow harmlessly to the side. "But everything I've done, I've done for the greater good."

Amayami pressed her lips together in a thin line, refusing to dignify his statement with a response. Her hands trembled as she pushed the hair from her face, short, aggravated breaths shaking her chest.

He met her eyes expecting to find cold indignation, but saw only the barest hint of disappointment. It froze him in his thoughts and made him wish he could take back his words.

Remorse washed over him, but he stifled it, hardening his resolve. To need her approval could only weaken him, yet…for the first time since his father's death, he cared what someone thought of him. "Put this on," he ordered, tossing her his kosode. "And get out."

Amayami caught the kosode, wanting to throw it back in his face. His expression was unreadable as he glared at her with barely concealed disdain. Meeting his eyes with equal scorn, she shrugged in the kosode and yanked it closed. "Rest assured, Inu no taishou, that had circumstance not denied me the luxury, I would most certainly despise you!"

Touga laughed, a great, rolling chuckle that seemed to fill the room, and then sobered beneath her withering glare. "That's my Amayami," he mused, reaching up to rub the furrow between her brows. "So chatty…"

_My Amayami._ She shifted uncomfortably, shyness creeping across her nerves. No one, other than her father, who was now banished forever, had ever addressed her with such obvious affection. "I'm not your anything," she hissed, ice coating her voice. "First you complain that I seldom speak to you…"

"No," he corrected, smug and probably more amused than was healthy. "I complain that you always wait until you're furious before you try to speak to me."

She looked away for a moment, and then back at him, her eyes hard and accusing. "Do you strive to irritate me? I'm ordinarily a very practical person!"

A smile floated across his face. "You are never ordinary."

Heat rose to Amayami's cheeks as she dropped her gaze to his chest, fighting the urge to smile. Once, not so long ago, she had thought herself immune to flattery. "Is that so?" she whispered, lifting her head to meet his eyes as he cupped her cheek. "I thought you wanted me to go."

Touga shook his head and chuckled softly, drawing the sound out until it became a low, sensual sigh. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush with his body, and buried his face in the crook of his shoulder. She smelled of warmth and flowers, of youth and vitality, of all the things he had forsaken to become what he became. "Since when have you obeyed my orders?"

"I wasn't."

Touga smiled into her hair, feeling her muscles tense with renewed defiance. Unlike other women he had encountered, Amayami offered no pretense of obedience. "Oh?"

He felt her sigh as she combed his hair with tender motions of her hands. Every touched reminded him why this, the circle of her arms, had become his favorite place to be.

"I wanted a bath," she said, pausing to unsnarl a knot with her claws, and wrinkled her nose. "I smell like you."

He peeked up, narrowing one eye at her. "Is that so terrible?"

Amayami shook her head despairingly, but he could see a hint of amusement in her eyes. "No. Not so terrible."

Feeling triumphant, despite the niggling voice that warned him of an unseen trap, he affectionately patted her bottom. "Then it's settled. Your bath can—"

"Except," she countered, grinning at his plaintive groan, and began stroking his head as if he were her favored pet. "You spent half the afternoon…"

He pinched her, making her stiffen in response. "What was that?" he asked, rubbing her offended bottom. "I don't think I heard you right." He pinched her again, this time hard enough that she squealed.

"You didn't let me finish!" she cried, her voice cracking with laughter as she slapped at his pinching fingers.

Laughter rolled from his chest as he playfully dodged her half-hearted slaps. His pinches became lighter and quicker, moving up and down her spine, her ribs, until she doubled over in a fit of wheezing laughter.

Without wasting a second, Touga began tickling her with renewed vigor, laughing as she shrieked and flailed her arms. It pleased him to have Amayami at his mercy, if only in pretense.

No, he thought, smiling ruefully as her shrieks of laughter became fits of coughing. This had nothing to do with mercy or power struggles. This was…

"St—op it!" Amayami managed to sputter, color flaming in her pale cheeks, and then socked him hard on the leg. "You're awful!"

His grin was quick and feral as he offered her his hand. "So I'm told." With a tug he pulled her to the cushion next to him. His humor left in a sigh. "And I'm a worse husband."

His sudden change in mood made Amayami's heart hammer in her chest. For weeks, she had longed for him to acknowledge his failings as her husband. If he could do that then, perhaps, her people and their way of life might the unification. And her father's exile would not have been in vain. "I never said…"

Touga thrust his legs out before him, scattering cushions across the hardwood floor. He was tired of the excuses, especially those offered on his behalf. "You don't have to! I have eyes, and I'm not stupid! I felt you recoil when we fu…you let me use you."

Coldness washed over Amayami, his meaning all too clear. "How causally you insult me!" she seethed, incensed despite the nausea rolling in her belly. "Do you believe that I would allow you to dishonor me and live?"

"I don't know what I think!" Touga gave a sort of grinding sigh and fell back amongst the cushions, his mood suddenly black. He stared at the ceiling, as if imploring its irregular tiles for aid. "You denied me what should rightfully be mine."

He heard her swallow and felt her resentment like a palpable force in the air. "I denied you?" she spat, her upper lip curling back in a snarl. "I comprised my principles, and gave you the last thing I had that was truly mine! Now, you have the audacity to…"

"I hurt you."

Amayami's anger plummeted, leaving vulnerable to the all too familiar shame creeping into the pit of her stomach. "We are not talking about this now," she blurted out, and saw a muscle jump at the base of Touga's jaw.

"Fine." The cushions shifted as he rolled onto his side, revealing twin dimples at the base of his spine. "I suppose you'd rather speculate about the stamina of my allies!"

"We could," she mused, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She shifted closer so that she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He was always so warm, almost feverish, and she loved the way his skin felt beneath her palms. "Or we could…find other ways to waste our time."

Unable to resist, she trailed the backs of her claws down the supple line of his spine, delighted when he shivered. She smiled, and then sighed, sobering. "That wolf is not your ally."

"You confuse ally with friend, Amayami." Touga flopped over onto his stomach and laid his chin on his stacked hands. "I once did the same. You'll understand better when you're older."

"When I'm older, you'll be dead or too senile to remember." Amayami reached out and patted his bare bottom, smirking when he jerked. "Perhaps Haru-san will lend you his rake."

"It's a hoe," he corrected, and Amayami lifted her eyebrows at the pouting in his tone. "And he wouldn't lend it to anyone. Not even you."

She stroked his hair absentmindedly, sensing his words were more than simply offhanded. "He doesn't know me."

"He adores you." Touga sighed and buried his face into his folded arms. It troubled him how quickly Amayami could change her mood and lock away her feelings. She was such a bundle of contrasts that the opposite and inverse of everything he knew about her was also invariably true. No one else could be so cold that she burned with fiery passion. "I suspect Cho has taken a liking to you as well."

Amayami frowned, withdrawing her hand. His tone seemed preoccupied, but it could have simply been muffled by his arms. "Should I consider them friends or allies?"

Sighing, Touga lifted his head just enough so that she could see the annoyance in his eyes. "Youkai of our power and position cannot afford friends."

Amayami studied him sadly. "Do you truly think like that?"

He dropped his head back into the valley of his arms. "My thoughts are my own." He heard the finality in his tone and wondered at the person he had allowed himself to become. "Haru likes to hide wood in a shed out back. You should find enough there to warm your bath."

After a moment, he heard Amayami breathe a little sigh and felt the ends of her long hair brush along his skin as she moved across the floor. He tensed and waited, wishing he could take back his words, but he would not beg her to stay. Beside him, Amayami scooted and squirmed, rolling across the floor until she was on top of him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, gritting his teeth as wiggled and shifted, jabbing him with her bony knees and elbows.

She uttered an exasperated sigh, but otherwise ignored him as she stretched out fully on top of him with her belly pressed against her back. Stacking her hands neatly on top of his head, she angled her chin just enough to see the scowling line of his brow. "What am I ever going to do with you?"

"You can start by..." He arched his back, trying to buck her off, but, short of violence, there was no was no budging her. "Get off of me," he bit out, straining against her tensed muscles, then the seemed to leave him in a single breathy pant. "You're heavy."

Amayami nodded sagely. "I understand."

If it had been anyone else, Touga would have believed she did understand, but Amayami had a way of twisting the simplest matters into complexity. "What do you understand?"

"That you are only a puny warlord," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, "whereas I am the Inu no hime. Pity really, I would have thought the Inu no taishou would have been something grander."

At that, he sighed despairingly, allowing his shoulders to slump, but there was no stopping the grin tugging at his lips. Amayami had done it again. With a simple gesture and a few teasing words, she had managed to mold his temperament to her liking.

Changed his, he realized, to conceal her own. Still, he would play her game, if only to see where it led him. "Only a warlord?"

He caught a flash of triumph in her pale blue eyes just before she shoved his face flush with the cushioned floor with the palm of her hand.

"Yes," she drawled, seemingly obviously to his muffled curses, and then wrenched his head up by the hair. "So are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or shall I torture the truth from you?"

The intent was there, in her voice and in the predatory gleam in her eyes, but the promise was of cool flesh and burning touches. Anticipation sang through his body as he felt the warmth of her lips moving against his cheekbone.

Her grip slackened, slipping from his hair to rest at the back of his neck, and turned his face towards hers, lips a breath from his. "Well?"

"You should be more wary of who you threaten."

A smile lit her face, igniting her from within. Her laughter stroked his face in warm, breathy caresses. Touga glanced away from her, refusing to respond, but the wheels of his mind where turning. Amayami had not only changed his mood, she had also changed the subject, and done so with a telling skill.

"No more games, Amayami." Annoyance tightened his throat, thinning his voice. He patted the floor beside him. "Get off."

"I don't play games, Inu no taishou." She rolled onto the floor with one easy movement, and sat cross-legged away from him. "I divert."

Touga shook his head and chuckled grimly to himself. As always, his little wife was impudence incarnate. "You split hairs."

She smiled a slow, easy twist of lips that could have been considered derision. "Perhaps."

"Again with the half answers!" he grumbled, not nearly as annoyed as he pretended, and pushed himself up by the elbows. "Don't you ever tire of all this…" He made a face. "this subterfuge?"

She cocked her head and smiled sweetly. "No."

Touga gave a long suffering sigh. Trust Amayami to offer absolute honesty where tact would have been more prudent. "I suppose not."

"Bring me a cup of tea."

Touga laughed hoarsely and shook his head, strangely content to be addressed as a common servant. Perhaps, he was simply feeling indulgent. "Will there be anything else, milady?"

She seemed to consider a moment, tapping her fingertip lightly to her chin. "A bath."

He nodded as his mouth opened in wide, tongue rolling yawn and pulled on his hakama. "I'll have Cho make you some tea," he said as stuffed his feet into his boots, and then breathed a put-upon sigh, "while I draw the water for your bath. Anything else?"

Amayami bit her lip, her playful façade dissolving, and then pounced on the question she had hoped he would ask. "Tell me about your father."

The change that fell over him, the subtle sag of his shoulders, the slight twitch of a muscle beneath his jaw, was subtle, and yet wholly devastating. He ran a hand down the length of his face and stared through his splayed fingers into the lonely courtyard.

Once, centuries ago, when he was still young, and Amayami had yet to be born, this place had been a bustle of family and friends. Children had once bounded through the courtyard, shrieking and laughing with a scolding mother at their heels.

They never saw the smoldering resentment in her eyes when they fled to their father's lap to escape her wrath. It was never in cruelty, just childhood mischief. Mother was the one who wanted manners minded and rooms cleaned, while Father…_If only I had…_

"He's dead." The words still pained him, sharp at first, then dulling into an ache of guilt.

A shiver of instinctive apprehension rippled through him as he heard Amayami rise from the floor. He could feel her displeasure from across the room.

"That's not what I asked."

He turned and caught her to him, feeling the softness of her breasts and the fine bones of her back. He buried his face into her crook of her neck, sighing as her arms wrapped around him. "You're impossible."

She thumped his chest with great deal of force before darting around him. "I'll just ask Haru-san about your father," she teased, sidestepping when he tried to grab her, and bounded halfway down the stairs.

"Giving up so easily?

Amayami paused, standing on one foot, and then lowered it slowly to the step, and slowly turned around. His voice was more teasing than challenging, yet, the question still rankled.

Touga winced as her brows lifted to her hairline and her mild, vaguely amused expression grew contemptuous. Past experience told him that when she spoke again, her words would be cold and biting in their truthfulness. She would insult him without being insulting, and dare him to contradict a single word.

He would, of course, for what little good it could do him. Amayami's thoughts were so much quicker and her mind so much sharper, that any defense he could muster would undoubtedly be used to put him firmly in his place. He would be humiliated, and yet, an unexpected thrill ran through him.

Before she could utter a word, he caught her to him and rained tiny, desperate kisses over her cheeks and the defiant line of her jaw. His nose nuzzled the furrow between her brows, trying to smooth it away, as his hand moved up her back. She glared at him from beneath lowered lids and growled in warning.

Her lips trembled against his and he realized she was holding her breath, trying to keep herself in reserve. "Maya," he murmured against her mouth and slid his free hand into the ends of her hair.

She released her breath in a slow, warm rush and brought her hands up between them. She had meant to shove him away, but his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her against him.

Her belly was flush with his, and she could feel the hammering of his heart beneath her trapped palm. For a fleeting moment, as lethargy stole over her limbs, Amayami allowed herself to forget everything but this moment, and how wonderful it was to be held.

She tipped her head back and allowed him to take her lips again. His kiss was firm, but tender, and dizzying in its intensity. A tide of color flooded her face as the last of her irritation ebbed away.

She flicked her tongue across his lips, and then wriggled her hand free so she could clutch his shoulders. She pulled back just slightly, and dodged his lips when he tried to kiss her again. "We cannot continue to settle arguments in this manner."

Touga touched her lips, still warm and glistening from his kisses, and pressed his forehead to hers. His breaths came in short, raspy pants, and he had to swallow twice to find his voice. "Why not?"

She gave him a swift kiss and twisted from his arms when he tried to give her another. "Because it's not respectful to me or to you," she said and leapt backwards to land at the bottom of the steps, out of reach when he tried to grab for her. "Now are you going to draw my bath or I shall I make do with the koi pond?"

Touga shook his head, temporarily at a loss. The more he knew of Amayami, the less he understood. After today, he was wary of prying too deeply. "Cho will have my hide if we're late for dinner."

"I will have your head if I don't get a bath soon." She pursed her lips and bounded onto to the porch.

He stared stupidly at her as she grabbed his hand and dragged him bodily down the short flight of stairs. She turned him towards the bathhouse with shooing motions of her hands. "Go on, while I gather our things."

"My father," _would have adored you_, he almost said, but amended, a bit too quickly, with, "was a great and powerful youkai."

Amayami beamed at him, her eyes dancing. "Aren't they all?" Then she turned and strode away, uncaring that she only half dressed and in his clothes. Nor did she seem to mind that her hair tangled around her shoulders and her long limbs in a riot of knotted silk.

He shivered, recalling how cool and slippery it felt against his skin. At that moment, Amayami glanced at him over her shoulder, her expression disconcertingly intense. He stared at her from across the courtyard, feeling a smile curl at his lips. If only she were a concubine or the nameless women of his court. He would have gone to her, seduced her, and never thought of her again.

"Oh, for goodness sakes!" Cho chided as she stepped from between two outbuildings, balancing a basket on one hip. "Quit gawking and go after her. It's what you both want!"

"Don't be foolish." There was strange sort of satisfaction in his words, his tone as he forced his eyes from Amayami. Although her power and beauty had almost swayed him, his resistance was there, if only tenuous. "She's the princess of a conquered people. Keeping her appeased is as important as keeping her on a short leash."

"Oh, spare me!" Cho shifted her basket from one hip to the other, and gave him an insultingly wide berth as she moved around him. "The day is hot enough without your posturing!"

He sighed. As much as Cho irritated him at times, the two had been raised together, and were accustomed to speaking their minds in other's presence. "I've come to a decision about Amayami."

"Well, out with it," she said with a loud, put upon sigh, and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. "The sooner you tell me, the sooner beat sense into you."

Touga smiled, feeling more certain than ever. Cho might not understand or approve of his plans, but she was at least willing to listen. "I plan to name Amayami my heir."

Cho whirled around, almost dropping her basket, and stared at him with her mouth agape. "What?"

"It's not uncommon," Touga said, shrugging off her shocked reaction. "She is the Inu no hime, and my co-sovereign, but her people won't be satisfied until they have my head on a pike."

"What about your people? I can't imagine they'll be too happy to learn that you're giving the land they bled for back to the enemy!"

"Amayami is not my enemy!" he growled harshly enough that Cho flinched and took a step backward.

"I never said…" She clamped her mouth shut, fighting the urge to give him a thorough tongue lashing for the assumption. "What does Amayami-sama think of all this?"

Frustration rolled from him in waves, but it was his disappointment that urged her to rethink her words. In his way, Touga had confessed to her what he would admit to no one, including himself. "I haven't told her yet, but it doesn't matter. Because of that damnable treaty, everything of mine is hers. I cannot even dismiss a single servant without her express permission!"

"It'll do you good!" she snapped in sharp matronly tone. "Having your own way for so long as has blinded you to the wants of others! Look, I'm not telling you what you're doing is wrong, but you need to discuss it with her. Don't just drop this in her lap and expect her to understand."

"You underestimate her and me," Touga said at last in a tone that brooked no argument. "Amayami would agree with me."

The last sounded so petty, so childish, that he almost winced. Still, he believed there was truth to his words. Amayami knew, as he did, that without an heir, his claim on his territory was tenuous at best.

Appointing Amayami heir would appease the east, and the child she eventually bore him would satisfy the west. It was dangerous gambit, but one where he only stood to gain.

"Enough," he snapped, jaw working as he ground his teeth. "Amayami is my heir, and I expect her to be treated as such."

Cho grabbed his elbow as he tried to brush past her. He tried to yank his arm free, but she tightened her grip so that her claws pricked his flesh. He growled in warning.

"Oh, hush up," she snapped, jerking his elbow with enough force that he stumbled slightly. "This might be your house, but you don't live here, I do. And you're not taking another step until you what's going on in that head of yours!"

"Here you go, Lady." Haru beamed as he rummaged around the kitchen cupboards and pulled out a clay jar encased in straw.

Amayami leaned forward on her elbows as Haru toddled back to the table with the jar and two mismatched cups in hand.

"This here sake is made by old monk that lives over in the flat country. Had to trade him a bushel of stone fruit, one of those pretty kimono that Cho is so good at stitchin' up, and my good hat jus' for this jar an' a barrel I hid in the shed out back, but it's worth it."

Amayami arched a brow, and a smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. She had her doubts. "Few humans are willing to traffic with youkai, at least not without an ulterior motive."

Haru shrugged and uncorked the bottle. "I suppose he figures my coin and goods are jus' as good as anybody's. As long are both are flowin' he doesn't much care none where they came from." He filled both cups, and then slid one, the taller of the two, across the table towards her. "An' before you make up your pretty mind that Old Haru has been hornswoggled, take a long drink of that."

Amayami rolled her eyes and sighed despairingly. Had she not been raised to respect her elders above all, she would have gladly told Haru where he could stow his sake. As it was, she was sorely tempted.

Smirking to herself, she lifted the cup to her lips and took a tentative sip. She rolled the wine around on her tongue. At first, it was light with a mellow earthen after, then as she swallowed, it turned to liquid fire. Flames climbed down her throat, shooting through her belly, followed by a delicious shiver that she felt to her toes.

She sputtered a cough, and inhaled a cooling breath of air. "It tastes like…" she rasped, her eyes watering, but delighted.

"Yeah, exactly. There ain't no words to describe it." Cackling, he drained his cup in a single, gulping swallow, and then smacked his lips in appreciation. "Humans may not be good for much, but they sure do brew up the best spirits."

"Spoken like a man who's never had a purity arrow shot at him," Amayami said with thinly veiled sarcasm. During the war, humans had been staunch supporters of her father and the Eastern providence. In their minds, her father, Takayuki, was the lesser of two evils, and thus were willing to stand at his side to repel Touga's rampaging army. "What else does he trade?"

Haru smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his bald head. "Don't know. I never cared beyond the spirits. But I gather he's a trading man, so there's no telling what he's haulin' around. Now what did you want to ask old Haru?"

Amayami put her cup aside and fought a sudden worm of guilt. In her heart, she knew that Touga should be the one to tell her about his father. But he had made it abundantly clear that his family was not open for discussion. Just as she had made it clear that if he were unwilling to speak of such matters, she would simply ask Haru. She had warned him, and although she knew that was justifying herself, it was enough to harden her resolve.

"I'd like to know about Sesshoumaru-dono." She leaned forward, her eyes earnest and sincere. "I understand that he built this house."

Haru beamed. "Not just the house, Lady! The old master built this whole valley, planted every tree, laid down every stone." He poured himself another drink, and downed it before continuing. "Dug the brook, too, an' the pond out back."

"It's artificial?" Amayami twisted on her cushion and craned her neck to peer out the side door. The brook, still swollen from the storm, glittered blue-black as it flowed beneath the silvery edge of moonlight. Beyond her line of sight, the brook spilled into a frothing waterfall and a pool filled with fish half again the size of her hand.

Weeks ago, she would have never thought that such a place could have existed, much less thrived under Touga's dominion. It was yet another sobering reminder that she knew nothing about her husband. "I never would have guessed."

Haru chuckled and nodded his head, his bright old eyes fixed on her. "'Course not, Lady. If you could tell it weren't real, there would be no point. 'Sides a river ain't nothing but a hole in the ground with water dumped in it."

She laughed at the simple, but strangely apt description and shook her head. "No. One of the first things my father taught me was to utilize the terrain to my advantage. He'll be so disappointed…" She bit her lip, cursing herself for the slip. "I didn't see a dam or any form of aqueduct."

"That's 'cause there ain't one," Haru said with obvious pride. "See long time ago, Sesshoumaru-dono bargained with a tribe of river folk, kappa, I think, is human for 'em, to summon up an underground lake and bind it to the surface. 'Course, it wasn't as simple as all that."

Amayami imagined the croaking chants of kappa and the flails of their little arms as they coaxed the waters from the cool ground. They must have been powerful and trusting of the old lord to even consider such a task. "Why did Sesshoumaru-dono go to all the trouble? I understand that water would be essential, but what you're suggesting is that he carved the entire valley from nothing."

"That's because he did, Lady," he said, his tone calling her a half-wit. "It was just after Yumeni-dono pushed out their first little one. They named her Leiko after Sesshoumaru-dono's first love."

Amayami arched a brow, and prayed her unruly tongue would not get the better of her. Naming a child after old love was untoward at best. "What happened to her?"

"She died giving birth to their little one." He gathered in a bubble of air as he recalled Leiko-hime's pale, still form and Sesshoumaru-dono's grief twisted face. "The baby lived half a day before he took his last breath. Not even Sesshoumaru-dono's powers could save him."

Amayami swirled her drink around, trying to appear only mildly interested. But her mind was keen and focused, ready to pounce on any shred of information. "It wasn't his fault."

"No, but that didn't mean he didn't blame himself all the same. Afterward, he abandoned everything. His titles, his riches, an' me and him took to the road. Eventually, his family caught up with us both an' he ended up marrying' Yumeni-dono to hush 'em up."

"I see." Amayami felt a sudden swell of pity for Yumeni, always destined to be second best in her husband's heart. She knew too well the feeling.

"Ah, I see by the look on your face that you're misunderstanding old Haru," Haru said between loud slurps of his drink. "I ain't sure what the old master's true feelings for Yumeni-dono was, but I think this house and their seven children says a lot."

"Seven?" Amayami gasped, and then smiled, imagining a half dozen little Touga's running around. "My, they were…passionate."

Haru started to laugh, but was cut short by Touga's outraged bellow.

"…expect you to agree, but you damn well better respect my decisions!"

"Damnable pit-hounds," Haru muttered under his breath as Amayami's features flushed with humiliation. "Ah, don't you fret none," he said as he reached forward to pat her hand. "It's when those two aren't fighting that you got to worry."

She forced herself to relax and take a thoughtful sip from her cup. "It's shameful that family should fight so much amongst themselves," she demurred, half to herself. "Why do you allow it?"

A chuckle escaped Haru. "Ah, girlie, that's like asking me to step up between two hissing an' clawing hellcats." His eyes twinkled at her. "If those two didn't love each other I would. You see, Cho's mama lit out of here one night on the count of her new husband wasn't too fond of half-bloods—"

"Half-bloods?" She frowned in confusion, rolling the unfamiliar term on her tongue. "You mean hanyou?"

"Naw, Amayami-dono, I mean half-blood. Though, I don't imagine he'd be too found of hanyou, either. Can't say I blame them," he said, draining the rest of the jar into their cups. "Cho's father was a cat youkai"

Amayami frowned and looked at Haru as if he were baffling in riddles. "So?"

"Cho's stepfather is one of the dog lords. It would shame his house if it were known that his wife had been got with an impure child."

"How?" Amayami fumed, thoughtless and incensed. "The very idea is ludicrous."

"It's good of you to think that way, Lady." He winked at her over the rim of her cup. "'Course, my daughter an' her new husband would say that spirit folk blood in your veins makes your words a might suspicious."

Amayami flushed, suddenly feeling contrite. Naturally, Cho's parents had parents of their own. It just never occurred to her that Haru could have been one of them. Now, with reality sitting across the table from her, she wondered how she could have been so foolish. "I meant…"

"Puh, you ain't said nothing I hadn't thought on already." Haru shrugged off the attempted apology and shoved himself from the floor. "Now how 'bout I whip us up some supper? Might even brew some of that tea you had a hankering for."

"Don't go to any trouble," she murmured on the tail end of a yawn. It had been weeks since she had slept well, but tonight sake swam in her blood, threatening to pull her down into drowning sleep. She smiled affectionately at the old man. "I think I'll retire for the evening."

Haru sniffed, offended, and Amayami managed a wan smile.

"Unless there is something you need, Haru-san."

"For starters, you can quit calling me _Haru-san_. I done nothing to deserve such reverence." He narrowed one gold eye at her, as if daring her to object. "Folks 'round here call me Haru, or Grandfather if they're so inclined."

Amayami regarded him archly. Something about Haru's gruff manner and complete disregard for anything that could be considered decorum made him dear to her. Strange that she should find friends amongst her enemy's family. "It's not up to you to decide who is revered and who is not, _Grandfather_."

A tentative smile broke across Haru's weathered features as his narrow chest puffed with pride. She smiled. Her instincts had been correct about him. As she rose graceful from the floor her expression grew thoughtful. "How did you know about my ancestry?"

Haru tapped his nose, a twinkle in his eyes.

Amayami frowned. If Haru could sense her heritage, then surely so could Touga, and yet, he treated her so strangely at times. "Touga hasn't said anything."

"Well, the boy ain't interested in your scent, if you get my drift."

She did, and it was enough to make her flush with anger. It was disgraceful that Touga's lusts were so apparent. "No, he's not."

"Aw, don't be so hard on the boy, Lady. It ain't everyday that a girl like you comes along. It's no wonder he's acting so sparse brained."

Amayami looked at him sourly. "He's hardly a boy."

"He might not seem young to you, but I've known him since he was peeing his nappy." He gave her a cagey wink. "Before then, if you count the time he was growing in his mama."

She worried her lower lip over her teeth, trying to imagine a time when Touga was young and innocent. "I bet he was cute."

"Spoiled rotten, if the truth be told," Haru cackled as he rattled around the small kitchen. "But that's what happens when there is jus' one boy in a slew of girls. Well, least 'til Takeshi was born. I've never seen two brothers who looked so much a like an' yet had such completely different insides. Like oil and water, those two."

"They make pretty colors when they're mixed," Amayami mused, and then smiled at Haru's baffled expression. "When you mix oil and water together in makes pretty colors in the sunlight…"

Haru's upper lip lifted just enough to reveal the hint of his yellowed fangs, and slowly bobbed his head, clearly not following. Amayami groaned internally. "You were saying?"

"Ah, yes, 'bout Touga and Takeshi." He grunted and stood on tiptoe to grab a jar from the upper most shelves. "Don't know why that girl insists on putting this stuff up so high."

Amayami stepped across and lifted a slender arm. Her fingertips brushed against the dusty jars, feeling intricate patterns carved on their earthenware surfaces.

"That one right there, Lady," Haru said, and smiled fondly as she retrieved it for him. "Anyway, as I was sayin', when Touga and Takeshi get together it isn't ever pretty. 'Course a lot of folks will say that's the master's fault, too." He turned his head to level one squinted eye at her. "Jus' like they say that husband of yours is rotten to the core, an' maybe he is, but that don't mean he can't change if he puts his mind to it."

Amayami smiled, strangely humbled despite her obvious doubts. If Haru thought that Touga had the potential to be a good and honorable person, then who was she to dispel his illusions? You have more faith than most."

"Ah, well." Haru shrugged. "I've lived a long time. Long enough to know there are few things in this here world that are impossible."

"If only that were truth," Amayami murmured to herself, thinking of all she had lost and what others had claimed she had gained. She had gained an empire, but lost herself. She was the Inu no hime, co-sovereign of the Western lands. Never again could simply be Amayami.

'Ah, I'm just funnin' you, girlie." He shrugged, flashing her a grin. "Spirit folk are so rare these days that none too many around remembers them. It's no wonder why the master doesn't sense it in you. As for the master?" He shrugged. "You're already married to him, so it does no good for me to try an' sell him to you. You're stuck with him."

Amayami stifled a laugh. "Sometimes I wish he and I could have met before our wedding. Bokensou even offered to act as a chaperon." She smiled fondly, recalling the stuffy old tree. "But I was too stubborn."

"There ain't nothing wrong with being stubborn," Haru muttered distractedly, swaying side to side as he peered out the window. "It's what you choose to be stubborn about that matters."

"I suppose." Amayami frowned and stood on tiptoe, trying to see over the old man's bald head. "Are they still arguing?"

"There ain't no supposing about it." Haru shook his head, muttering something beneath his breath, and then raised his voice to near yell. "Go fetch us some water, girlie. You need some time away from this old man's yammering an' I can't cook with you hovering at my elbow."

Amayami hesitated, her features briefly registering the sting of his dismissal. Then a formal mask settled over her features as he waved her off with one hand. She watched the old man bustle around the kitchen, an apology weighing on her tongue. Shaking her head, she chastised herself.

Haru was just an old man, and the distant cousin of person whom often times she could barely stand. His dismissal should have infuriated her, and yet, the only thing she could think of was how to make amends.

Lips pressed into a firm line, she took several steps back, glaring as she turned and stalked out to the door. She hurried from the kitchen, onto the porch, and skidded to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. The courtyard was dark and empty, and in the distance the heavy front gate groaned as it creaked closed.

Amayami gathered in a deep breath of the humid air and held it for a moment before exhaling. She gasped as lightning flashed over the mountain peaks, brightening the undersides of rain heavy clouds.

"One," she whispered, recalling an old game her father used to play with her. The higher she could count before the thunderclap then the further away the storm. "Two, three…" She grinned as thunder rent the sky, seeming to shake the grounds around her.

Anticipation sang through her limbs, prickling beneath her skin. In three hours the storm would be upon them, and she could drench herself in the rain. When lightning flashed again and thunder rolled around the courtyard in answer, it was all Amayami could do to resist taking to the sky.

She wanted to fling herself headlong into the thunderhead, and chase down bolts of lightning as they arched across the evening sky. She wanted to ride the wind.

Footsteps crunched the ground nearby and she whirled to see Touga trying to sneak past her. Without a word, she crossed her arms over her chest, looking every inch the beleaguering wife, frowned at him from beneath her lifted brows.

He paused a few feet from her and crossed his arms over his chest, looking suspiciously contrite. "You changed your clothes."

Suddenly self-conscious, Amayami curled her hands into small fists and tucked them into her billowing sleeves. His hand touched her cheek, drawing her eyes from the tips of her black boots.

"You look down for no one." He cradled her chin in the palm of his hand, his long fingers cupping the side of her face. "Not even for me."

He nuzzled her cheek and smiled when she tilted her head to give him better access.

"I hung your kosode in the breezeway," she murmured as he pressed tiny kisses along the curve of her cheek. "It should air out enough tonight that you can wear it tomorrow."

Touga made a humming sound in his throat as he smoothed his hands down her spine to play with the ends of her hair. "It looks nicer on you."

Amayami snorted and shoved him with the heels of her hands, but not before he caught a glimmer in her pale eyes. "You're a fool," she muttered, and ignored his angry look to watch the lightning flash across the sky. "You should go in before it rains."

"What about you?"

She smiled, counting beneath her breath to the next thunderclap. "Never mind me."

"Fine!" Touga threw up his hands, and then let them drop limply to his sides. "You want to be alone. I'll leave you alone. Just don't whine later that all I ever want to do is fuck you!"

Amayami clucked her tongue, but remained infuriatingly unruffled. "Truth is truth."

Her ambiguity surprised him, although he could not imagine why. Every word that sprang from Amayami's lips always had another meaning. "No riddles, Amayami," he replied coolly. "I'm in no mood."

"Then it is quite unfortunate that you're leaving." She paused and tipped her head sideways, smiling as a peal of thunder boomed around them. "I am in a most perplexing mood."

He huffed and looked away, but only to hide the upward twitch of his lips. "Do you even care what Cho and I argued about?"

Amayami sighed, clearly put upon, and combed back her hair with one hand. "Are either of you bleeding?"

"No," he answered slowly, baffled by the question. "Cho is securing the gate."

"Then, no, I don't care." She quirked a little smile at him, revealing just the hint of her fangs, and then gave him her back. "Haru-san is preparing dinner."

"He asked that you quit calling…" With a silent curse, Touga clamped his mouth shut and grimaced as Amayami turned slowly around.

Her expression was cold, but it was her eyes, calm and sinking, that made hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Past experience told him that unless he chose his next words with the utmost care, he would wind up flat on his back. "Maya-chan, I …"

"You were eavesdropping," she said flatly, muscles flexing in her jaw line. "That's why Haru-san chased me out of there so quickly."

Touga stepped forward and took both her hands in his, helpless she as angled her chin away from him.

"Only for a moment." He balked at how desperate and contrite he sounded, almost as if he were pleading for her forgiveness. "After Cho stormed off in huff, I didn't want to come to you angry so I went to look for Haru."

She jerked her hands free. "You were going to take your anger out on an old man?"

"No! No, I…" He uttered a frustrated growl, and fought the urge to gnash his teeth and pull his hair out by the roots.

"You?" she offered unhelpfully, her brows lifting as she mouthed the word. "Were sulking behind the kitchen because you were angry at Cho?"

"I wasn't sulking, I was waiting for you to leave." His hands flexed at his side, every line of his body tense with agitation. He was less accustomed to explaining himself than being called a liar. "I wanted to talk to Haru about Cho and some other matters."

Amayami took a calming breath. She knew exactly what those 'other matters' were and very soon the two of them would have a discussion about airing their personal affairs in public. But that was for later. Now she was far too entertained watching Touga squirm.

"So you went to the kitchen."

Touga searched her face for any sign that he might be able to charm her into forgiving him. She looked annoyed and tired, but utterly focused on his every word.

"I was hoping to catch Haru while he was still sober," he began, encouraged by the amusement he saw flicker in her eyes. "When I heard the two of you talking, I hid behind the bush near the stoop…"

"So you were eavesdropping," Amayami said as she brushed past him in a swish of silk and furs. "At least be honest about it."

"All right, fine." He caught her arm before she was out of reach. "I was eavesdropping, but Haru saw me before I heard anything important."

She frowned, flicking her arm free with one easy movement. "And just how do you know that we spoke of anything important?"

"Because everything you say is important! You prefer to hedge around and talk in riddles. It's how you make certain that no one knows what's going on in that thick head of yours!"

Lightning flashed twice in rapid succession, distracting Touga for a moment. He looked over the mountains to where the storm stirred, and then back at Amayami. He ran a fingertip over her pale brow, just grazing her crescent moon. "I don't understand you."

She smiled and shook her head, and for a moment, he thought saw something apologetic in her eyes. "Nor I you. I…"

Just then, a high, hissing whinny came from the direction of the stables. It was a bestial sound, full of rage and pain, one that she had heard countless times on the battlefield. She glanced quickly at Touga and saw the comprehension in his eyes. "Ichi."

"No!" Touga whispered urgently and lunged forward to catch her around the waist. He could feel the hammer of her heart as she arched against him. "We go together."

In truth, he would have rather Amayami gone inside to the relative safety of the manor, but knew she would never have obeyed. The dragon, although trained to be a vicious combatant, had become a pet in her eyes. "Stay behind me."

Amayami wrenched herself free and bolted towards the stables as a horrific sound of pure terror split the air. Touga scrambled after her, furious that she would ignore him. Absurdly, his only concern was for her safety. "Maya!"

Something in his tone, Amayami was uncertain what, made her skid to a stop and spin around. "Hurry up!" she hissed, gripping his forearm to drag him bodily as he ground his heels into the ground. "Or I'll leave you behind!"

"Of course, you will," he snarled and jerked his arm free with enough force to make her stumble. "That's how you solve everything. You think that if you can outmaneuver me, I'll eventually give up and leave you alone."

Amayami shook her head in exasperation, unable acknowledge what in her mind amounted to inane pettiness. She turned and rushed to the stables, longing for her sword tucked safely in her chambers.

The sword had belonged to her mother and perhaps for that reason alone had always brought her comfort. Amayami could barely remember her mother, yet, when she held her mother's sword, she felt her presence like a tangible thing.

Amayami never thought of her mother, no more than she ever thought of her right hand, but that did not make either any less dear. Futilely, she reached to her left side, and then smoothed her hand across her belly, feeling for the dagger hidden within the folds of her obi.

It was more a calming gesture, than a desperate one. She knew that her abilities made her more than a match for most. Still, knowing that she had another weapon at her side was reassuring.

Suddenly, her head snapped back, jerking her to a halt as Touga grabbed a fistful of her hair.

"You little fool," he snarled, yanking her hair hard enough that a less prideful person would have cried out, and whipped her around. "You shouldn't run blindly into a fight!"

Even with head twisted back, Amayami still had the audacity to glare at him with hate filled eyes. He growled, watching a flush of anticipation raced across the hollow of her throat.

"Let me go." Her voice was breathy, belying the fury in her eyes.

Giving her hair a sharp twist, Touga flung her forward, mildly annoyed that she caught herself before stumbling.

"When this is over we can fucking kill each other," she hissed, batting at her hair. "But right now, we don't have the time."

Touga nodded in agreement, his mouth too dry to speak. Her defiance goaded him until he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in a battle of mastery. Only when she was in his arms, under him, did he feel they were on near equal footing.

However, that was not now. For now he had to be a warrior, a tactician. He had to be ruthless being that was the Inu no taishou. But later, once the danger had past, he and she would settle their differences. And if it played as he intended, there would be no better place than on his futon.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen:**

"What do you mean, _they're gone_?" Daisuke demanded, forgetting for a moment that the man beside him had once been his father's most trusted vassal. "Why?"

Keiji grimaced and toyed with one of the brightly colored tassels adorning his armor. "Do you remember the stories your mother used to tell you when you were little?"

"Fuck, Keiji," Daisuke snapped, scrubbing at his face in frustration. The mention of his mother sent an ache through him. Her sweet, round face appeared in his mind's eye, and he could almost hear the musical hum of her laughter.

Her life had been like that of an epic poem. A lowly commoner had risen from pauper to favored concubine to lady mother of her lord's heir. Then, her story ended and she faded forever.

"She's been dead a long time, Keiji." Gone like his sister, without a trace, so that there was nothing to mark her existence. He sighed, feeling his breath warm his hands as he stared at Keiji through his splayed fingers. "Her stories don't matter."

Keiji felt his face harden, but softened into a long-suffering sigh. "I should turn you over my knee for that."

He sank to his haunches and held his hands over the dying embers of his campfire. Briefly, he wondered just how many times he was destined to fail. "The men are tired, Daisuke. They…"

Daisuke felt sick, but quietly furious as well. "They what? Want to go home? Go back to their nice, peaceful lives? Well, they can't, Keiji!"

"You're not the only one who has lost," Keiji said, almost sympathetically as he rose to his feet. "I loved your father and your mother, and I love Umeko as if she were my own, but I…the men are tired, Daisuke-sama. They want to go home."

Daisuke stood still for a moment, feeling as if the world had fallen out from beneath him. Worse was that is it had, so many weeks ago, and he had been too stunned to plummet.

"Our home is gone," he drew softly, slowly, as if admitting to himself what he had denied forever. The lush meadows of his childhood, his family's ancestral home, were nothing more than burnt fields and timbers turned to ash. "Umeko is all I have left. I won't abandon her."

To his horror, he realized that he wanted to. He wanted to believe that she among the broken corpses they had found in the eastern field. Perhaps that had buried her with the pieces of people he had known since childhood.

Perhaps, she had been the little one he found near the kitchens, laying charred and blackened on the steps, her mouth gaping open in a soundless scream. He had only assumed that it had been the cook's young daughter.

With inarticulate cry, Daisuke whirled and rammed his fist into the closest tree. "She's alive," he rasped as he punched it, again and again, shaking leaves from its knotted branches. "Damn it! She's a…she's…"

"My lord! Daisuke, stop it! Stop this now, you're going to…"

Keiji grabbed at his arm, his shoulders, trying to make him stop, but he kept pounding, punching the tree as it screamed and splintered beneath his hands.

"Why the fuck did they leave? I told them…I told them! You and I were going to grab the girl while the rest of them caused a diversion. That's what we planned! That's what we were going to do!"

"That is enough!"

Keiji roar sliced through his fury and stopped him in mid swing. Daisuke uttered a final, wordless cry, and then slumped, exhausted and humiliated, against what was left of the tree. "Damn it! I can't…"

"You can and you will," Keiji snapped, grabbing him by the shoulders and hauling him upright. "This isn't helping."

Daisuke choked on a laugh as he ground his forehead on what remained of the tree trunk. Only he can have nothing and still lose everything. "You asked me if I remembered my mother's stories."

"I did, but…" Thunder rumbled across the valley, shaking raindrops from the sky. Keiji tipped his head back, feeling the icy drizzle patter against his cheeks. With a slight bit of homesickness, he realized it would have been a good year for planting. "It doesn't matter."

"They went looking for treasure. That's what you're trying to tell me, isn't it? That they actually believed one of my mother's silly stories about the great wealth of the daiyoukai." Daisuke snorted a laugh. "What childish nonsense."

"To you perhaps, but those boys believed everything Takara-sama ever told them!"

Daisuke looked down into the valley at manor tucked safely between the mountains. In his mind he heard his mother's voice, felt the soft swell of her breasts as she him in her lap. _There was once a wise and powerful daiyoukai, who lived in a valley near the sea…_

"He could bring life with one hand and death in the other." His brows knit together as he strained to remember. "And there was something about a great treasure and a circle within his name. I can't remember…" He turned sharply and pressed his back against the tree, nostrils flaring as he seethed. "Idiots!"

"I quite agree, but what are we going to do?" Keiji wavered slightly, or so it seemed as lightning flashed above them. "We can't just leave them."

"As much trouble as they've caused me, I'm sorely tempted…" Daisuke waved off Keiji's horrified expression. "Don't look at me like that. If father were here, he'd have taken the lash to both of them."

"Your father was harsh, but he was also fair." Keiji managed a tight smile, but there was no hiding the guilt in his eyes. "They're just boys."

Annoyance made Daisuke's voice thin. "Yukio is twenty years my senior. He's no more a boy than I am!"

It was a lie that was half true. Twenty years meant nothing to a people who counted their lives in centuries. He and Yukio were both under two hundred, decades away from the time either could rightfully be called men.

Daisuke ground his teeth. Weeks ago, he would have followed after Yukio with Umeko clinging to his legs. She had always chased after him, always behind him, so he never thought to look back when he fled the manor.

"Umeko, why didn't you follow me?" he whispered, the word lost beneath a sudden peal of thunder. The storm would fierce, flooding the valley, turning everything around them to dripping curtains of green. "Keiji, lead the men from the valley."

Keiji paled, and though he recovered quickly, was plainly troubled. He had prayed his young lord would abandon this foolhardy venture, but now the notion seemed almost cowardly. "We're leaving then? What of Taro and Yukio?"

"It would serve them right if I left them." Daisuke crossed his arms over his chest, sighing as he glared down into the valley. In the distance, he heard the cries of the dragon the daiyoukai had been using for a mount. Was it unsettled because of the storm, or did it sense intruders like some monstrous watchdog?

"But, no, I'll find them," he muttered a bit distractedly. The dragon was quiet now, almost ominously so. "And beat them both within an inch of their lives. I want you to wait for me at camp, if I don't return…"

"Absolutely, not," Keiji spat, eyes blazing. "You're not going through with this foolishness. Get on your damn horse!"

"One of us needs to stay alive for Umeko's sake," Daisuke said, tone deceptively mild, and then jabbed a thumb in the direction of the men lurking within the tree line. "Do you honestly think any of them will bother once we're gone?"

Color flowed over Keiji's features, darkening along his throat to the tips of his ears. He pressed his lips together into a thin, forbidding line, nostrils flaring with each breath he took. "Then, I'll go," he said with absolute finality. "It's my responsibility to keep an eye on everyone."

Daisuke smiled, softly, almost sadly. "Father's dead, Keiji. You don't have to keep playing vassal."

"And so, now you're going to throw your life away? After all this time, after all this waiting! You've made every excuse not to confront those daiyoukai directly. You've wasted every advantage we might have had. And now…" Keiji squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep his composure, but he was so frustrated, so undeniably angry. "Damn you! At least tell me why! Why does it have to be you?"

"Because I'm afraid…" Daisuke laughed without humor, licking his lips. "I'm afraid that Umeko is dead, and I've just been deluding myself all along."

"Daisuke…"

"I'd rather die thinking that there is hope for her, than to face learning the truth. But…" Daisuke chewed thoughtfully at his thumbnail for moment. "Don't worry. I'm not rushing off to my death. Not just yet."

Keiji frowned. "So, you're staying?"

"I'm a farmer, Keiji. I'd be lying to myself if I claimed otherwise, but that doesn't mean I'm without advantages," Daisuke muttered, spitting out a jagged piece of cuticle. "Now go, Keiji, this storm should be enough to hide your trail if it comes to that."

"And just what will you do?" Keiji snapped, dubious as he desperate. "Offer to till their fields if they don't eat Taro and Yukio? It's utter madness."

"Yes, and I needn't remind you that you're free to leave this company at any time." He craned his head back to scowl at the woods around him. "And that goes double for you lot, always gossiping like a bunch of old scullery maids."

Every voice in the forest grew silent, except for Keiji who was still raving.

"Fine," he grit out at last, balling his hands into fists at his sides. "I'll lead the men from the valley. They deserve that much. But mark my words, Daisuke. Once I return, you and I will have words. Which you damn well better be alive to hear! Then, I'm done with you and all this foolishness!"

Daisuke sighed. Not for a moment did he believe that Keiji, as close to him as an uncle, would ever truly leave him. "If that's what you want."

"It is," Keiji glowered, but then faltered almost instantly, cursing beneath his breath. "Don't do this."

Daisuke hid a smile and started down into the valley floor with hardly a backwards glance. To look back was to lose his nerve, and he had made excuses for far too long.

Suddenly, the ground seemed to slip from beneath him, and he skid several feet before catching himself on low hanging branch. He scratched and scrambled at the limb's slick bark like a cat without claws.

Cursing, he flung his weight forward and caught the branch in the bend of his arm. "Shit," he breathed, shagging against the branch. Blinking the rain from his eyes, he peered down into the valley floor. The hillside was rocky, strewn with rocks, mud, and countless trees, and far too steep for horses, including him, his true form to climb.

Hope filled him as he shoved away from the tree. Yukio and Taro would have had to leave their horse behind and travel down the steep hillside on foot. There was still a chance that he could catch them before they did anything stupid.

--

Despite the impatience gnawing at him, Touga methodically donned his fighting garb and the pieces of his armor. White over white, the simple act of folding and tying was almost a meditative exercise, clearing his mind and allowing him to focus on the events of the last hour.

Two horse youkai, young ones by all reckoning, had slipped away from their camp in the forest and traveled down to the foot the orchard. There they hid, lurking for hours amongst the trees that had existed since before his birth, waiting.

Touga plopped down on the low bench near traveling gear and tried to concentrate on the simple act of dressing. Unwilling to consider what might have happened if the two trespassers had been more skillful, more mindful, or simply luckier.

Cursing, he snatched up his obi and pulled the fabric taut between his hands. One of them could have gotten close enough to sink a knife between his ribs or Amayami's. His claws cricked reflexively, shredding the obi between his hands.

"Oh, honestly," Cho sighed and dropped at suit of battered armor at his feet. "I suppose it makes no never mind to you that I spent the entire winter stitching that for you!"

He smoothed the ruined obi between his hands, feeling the intricate embroidery against his palms. His mother had taught Cho to sew, had taught her to spin strands of her hair into thread the strength of iron. He brought the fabric to his face and sniffed. As he thought, the stitches contained a fraction of Cho's youki, so reminiscent of his mother's old incantations.

"You shouldn't have bothered…"

Cho snatched the obi from his hand, eyes narrowing as she examined the deep blue silk. "No, but maybe I wanted to," she huffed, and then tossed the garment into a box of old rags. "Either way, it's ruined. I'll leave it to Amayami-sama to sew you another."

Touga gave her a flat look that was both annoyed and amused. "Amayami doesn't know how to embroider." Nor could she play the koto or dance, or do any of the things that had once amused his sisters for hours. Sometimes he wondered if she had ever played as a child.

"Oh?" Cho scooped up the breastplate from the floor, and then held it before her as if were no heavier than one of her grandfather's yukata. "I figured she just said that to get out helping."

Touga stared out the window and watched the rain drip down from the eaves. "Amayami doesn't lie." He stood and held his arms from his sides. "Is this the only suit of armor in storage?"

Cho slipped the breastplate around his torso and held it in place with one hand as she fumbled with the buckles. "The only one that's still reasonably intact," she said, meeting his eyes as bent to retrieve his shoulder guards. "So what does Amayami-sama do?"

"You mean when she's not brooding or speaking in riddles or twisting my words to suit her?" He ran a hand over his face, scowling as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "She studies, or will once I hire the proper tutors. Perhaps if she were occupied she would find less reason to…"

"Destroy your armor?" Cho grinned at Touga's sour expression, and then looped her arms around his waist to secure the last buckles. "I'll send it to Kaijinbo in the morning, if you like. He's really better at this sort of thing than Toutousai."

"Do so, and…" he sucked in a breath and swung his arms up and down sharply, then dropped them to his sides. The armor was a touch too small, but would do well enough. Tonight the armor was for pretense, not protection. "Tell Toutousai I would like to offer him a commission."

"You know he's not going to accept." She edged past him and reached deeply into one of the cabinets lining the room. "More likely he'll just go running off again."

Touga's eyes drifted to his sword resting unobtrusively above Amayami's smaller, more elegant blade. He had won the weapon in battle, plucked it from the corpse of a daiyoukai prince whose name he could scarcely remember. While the blade had served him well for many decades, it was no longer fitting for a lord of his stature.

"Let him try. The territory is only so wide and that bull of his can only fly so far. Let him try to run with my soldiers at his heels."

"And you wonder why he refuses," Cho drawled sardonically, leaning forward to frown at the inside of the cabinet. "Maybe you should try asking nicely."

Touga gave a snort of laughter and rubbed his chin ruefully. He had offered wealth, lands and title, and the promise of his protection. None of which had swayed the old smith, even less so when the offers became threats. "He doesn't like me."

"And with good reason, I imagine." With a huffing breath, she stepped from the cabinet and slammed the door shut with her hip. "Well, there isn't an extra obi in here, and I know Grandfather's won't hit you over that armor. Looks like you're going to be carrying your sword between your teeth!"

"It wouldn't be the first time." Touga smirked and pretended to examine a worn place on his armguards. "I don't suppose it would do any good to apologize?"

Angling her chin up, Cho gave him a long, measure stare, eyeing him as if he were a little boy caught sneaking sweets before dinner. "It couldn't hurt none."

Without a word, Touga retrieved his sword from the stand near the door and tucked it under his arm. "Have Miyu recommend a tutor. Tell her…" he ran a finger down the lacquered sheath of Amayami's sword. "I want Satoshi."

"The sorcerer?" she asked archly, her tone baiting. Trust Touga to offer an apology but never give it. "Since when have you been interested in the craft?"

"It's not for me." His fingers lingered for a moment more on Amayami's sword, and then, almost as an afterthought, he lifted it from the stand and tucked it with his. "I should be back within a few hours, perhaps sooner."

Touga slid the door open with his foot and stepped out onto the porch. He bound down the steps, both swords tucked securely beneath his arm. Briefly, he considered retrieving a replacement obi from his bedchambers, but every moment he delayed was an opportunity for Amayami to disobey him and confront the horse youkai herself. He snorted and started off into the rain. Forbidding Amayami to do something was not going to stop her.

"Maya?" he called, not expecting an answer. Storms came quick and violent to the region, dumping torrents of rain before the last had receded. The courtyard yard was already flooded, and so muddy that his booted heels made sucking sounds with each hurried step he took. "Amayami!"

Relief flowed over him when he spotted her near the stables. She seemed lost in thought, her hands pale, ghostly, as they gripped the fence that surround the enclosure. Her hair lay in tangled clumps about her shoulders, tightened and curled from the pouring rain. She looked lost and drowned, like something that had washed up from the river.

He stepped closer and came up behind her, standing no more than a foot from her. A shudder gripped her. Locked within his stall, Ichi-ni keened piteously and reared, forepaws flailing. A grunt of sympathy escaped Touga. He knew what it was like to been given, and then denied Amayami's affection.

"Why didn't you answer me when I called you?"

She tipped her head back just enough so that he could see the pale blue of her eyes. "I'm not one of your lackeys."

A prickling sensation moved across his skin. With a start, he realized that he could feel the cold smolder of her anger. It threatened to overtake him, seduce him as easily as her body had. Almost against his will, he stepped forward, coming within inches of her.

"Amayami…"

She licked the rain from her lips, hating the tightness in her throat. A shudder ran through her and she gripped the fence to keep from hugging herself. Her eyes drifted to the end of the enclosure, unseeing as they stared at the dark shapes hidden beneath one of the dragon's saddle blankets. Her stomach lurched. "Nor am I your lapdog to come as you bid."

Touga sighed, more in frustration than anger, and flexed his arm. Her sword slid down the length of his body into the cradle of his palm. He held it for a moment, gauging its weight and balance. Briefly, he considered clubbing her over the head with it, but dismissed the notion as quick as it came. There was no sense ruining a perfectly good sword.

"Here," he grunted, none too gently, and circled his arms around her. He wanted to be offended when she stiffened, but instead he feigned nonchalance and slipped the weapon into her obi. "You shouldn't be unarmed."

Amayami dragged in a shaky breath as her fingertips brushed against the hilt of her sword. "I…" she turned to him, her expression hardening into a beautiful mask. Once again she was the unknowable Inu no Hime. "There were several rotten boards in the fence along the west side of the estate. Haru-san and I believe that is where Taro and his friend entered the grounds."

"What did you call him?"

Amayami's expression went blank, not calm or serene, but devoid of everything, as if her emotions had crumbled in upon themselves. "The red haired one was named Taro…" her eyes drifted to the sword tucked beneath his arm. "Where is your obi?"

"Cho forgot to lay one out," he lied, sighing as he shook his head. "And I didn't want to leave you alone any longer than necessary."

She pinned him with teasing eyes. "More likely you were afraid that my impatience would get the better of me."

"Not true." Touga laid one hand on her hip and held her steady as he slipped his sword into her obi, securing it alongside side hers. "I was more worried about your stubbornness."

Before he could stop himself, Touga slid his hand around to the small of her back and pulled her to him. She resisted at first, walking stiff and straight legged, but then flung herself into his arms.

"Amayami? What's wrong?" he whispered urgently, smoothing his hands down her back and sides. She hiccupped against his shoulder, not quite sobbing, and curled her fingers around his armor.

He was stunned that she was so vulnerable, so frightened. It should have repulsed him, and months ago it would have, but that was then. Instead, he found himself whispering soft words to her as he rubbed the small of her back. "Tell me what's wrong. Are you hurt?"

"I…it's nothing." Amayami jerked away, sniffing as she shoved her wet hair from her face. "Nothing you want to know about."

"Let me be the judge of that," he bit out, grinding his teeth. He was more confused than angry, more frustrated than annoyed. "Tell me what's wrong."

She flung back her head and closed her eyes, feeling the icy weight of rain on her face. How could she make him understand that watching the horse youkai die had brought back memories of her mother? "Haru is out fixing the fence. I…I told him he could wait until morning, but he was insistent."

She heard him huff a sigh and knew that he was closing in on her, ready to take her in his arms again. Part of her just wanted to be held and to tell him the things everyone had assumed she had forgotten.

Her throat felt tight; painful as it had been the night she watched the knife fall from her mother's bloodstained hands. "I left when he started flailing a mallet around."

"I don't care about that!" Gritting his teeth, Touga caught Amayami's elbows and gave her a hard shake. "Just tell me."

"You should," she murmured, her tone light and mocking, and wrenched herself free of his hold. "It's your fence."

"Damn you," he growled and strained to the horse youkai encampment through the driving rain. They had trespassed on his territory and sullied his father's home. Everything within him screamed for retribution, and yet, he could not bring himself to leave Amayami's side.

"Cease this foolishness at once and—"

"Bow to your wishes?" Amayami sighed and pressed her fingers to her eyelids, warding off a headache. "Sorry to disappoint."

Touga spat at her feet, glaring in silent fury as his gaze drifted to Ichi-ni. All things considered, the dragon had done remarkably well. Pity it killed the trespassers before they could be questioned.

"You've seen death before," he said suddenly, and then wished he could swallow the words, or at last make them sound less like an accusation. "You've almost killed me."

"Since the summer I turned five." She sighed and pressed her forehead to his shoulder, hiding her eyes. "That's why I won't use my poison on you again. You're too powerful to die quickly."

Touga frowned, wondering if she had just given him a backhanded compliment. "Look at me, Amayami."

For once, she obeyed and slowly raised her head. "We should hurry—" Her face went starkly pale and her eyes were wide and glassy as Ichi-ni let out a sudden piercing shriek. She pushed Touga aside when he tried to lunge forward. "No!"

Amayami streaked forward as he stumbled back, moving in a blur of speed. She stopped suddenly, her feet sinking into ankle deep mud as she allowed stillness to seep into her limbs. As she thought, one of the horse youkai was close, just on the other side of the orchard. She could smell his blood and fear, heard the panicked draw of his breath.

With an imperceptible movement, she slipped into a defensive stance. "Are you here to fight or to talk?"

A moment passed, and then another, as the thrill of battle sang through Amayami's veins. Despite what she had led Touga to believe, she rather liked fighting. Of course, he also believed that fighting inevitably meant killing, but yet still managed to understand her distaste for unnecessary death.

Amayami snorted, shaking her head as her hand drifted to her sword. In some ways, Touga knew her too well, and in others not at all.

"Well, then," she said with a long, elaborate sigh. Every moment, from the shrug of her shoulders to the slow draw of her sword was calculated nonchalance. Touga would have called it toying. _Stupid fool. _

She flung a glare over her shoulder to see Touga storming towards her. His feet sank into the mud, making rhythmic, sucking sounds with every step he took. At any moment, he would bellow some nonsense that she would half ignore. They would argue, perhaps even come to blows, until their frustrations drove them to paw each other against some tree.

Fighting and fucking had become the sum of their relationship. It made her heart hurt, even as it raced within her chest. Touga's jaw clenched so tight that she could almost hear his teeth crack. "Amayami, I'm going to fucking kill you!"

Amayami sighed. "How boring…"

Beside her the trees rustled and creaked, as if someone where crashing through the low hanging branches. Amayami whirled on her heel; muscles tensed and ready to strike, just as someone leapt from between the trees. Her free hand shot out, quick as thought, and caught her attacker by the throat.

He gagged and choked, clawing her hand as she lifted him effortlessly from the ground. "Wait!" he croaked and kicked frantically at her legs. "Talk!"

Amayami lifted her brows in mock surprise, her lips forming an imperfect circle. "So now it's talk, Daisuke?"

Surprise flashed over Daisuke's features as his eyes widened and bulged in their sockets, his face turning red. Mentally he cursed and called himself all manner of fools as he waited in agonizing slowness to die. If this girl was any indication, there was no way his men could have defeated one, much less two daiyoukai.

"Put him down, Amayami."

"Why?" Amayami tipped her head back, frowning at Touga over her shoulder. "So you can kill him for daring to step foot in your father's estate?

Touga swallowed his rage, knowing very well that Amayami enjoyed playing him like a fish on a line. "I should be insulted."

"No," Amayami retorted coolly, loosening her grip just enough so that Daisuke could breathe. Killing him would be unfortunate, especially after going through the trouble of keeping from Touga's claws. "You are an insult."

Daisuke griped her wrist with both hands, no longer kicking or truly struggling, as if he were content to simply dangle. "How do you know my name?"

Without changing expression, her grip tightened on his throat, squeezing until spots pin wheeled before his eyes. Oddly, he felt no fear, only resignation and a profound sense of relief. Like the army that had destroyed his life, this girl was no one he could hope to defeat.

He was outmatched, then and now, and there was no shame in that fact. The scent of burning flesh stung his nostrils, and, though he registered no pain, nothing save the darkness eating away at his vision, he realized it was his.

"Your friend told me," Amayami whispered, her voice cutting through the blood roaring his ears. "He…"

She looked miserable and haunted all at once, and then the light, her very personality seemed to ebb away. Terror stole through Daisuke, compounded by the realization that he could not gather enough breath to scream.

"Tell him, Amayami," Touga commanded softly, almost sympathetically, but there was an underlying menace to his tone. "Tell him how you held the young one's hand as he died, then perhaps we can both understand why it troubles you so."

Amayami hissed, and then dropped Daisuke, sending him sprawling against the muddy ground. "It's none of your concern," she snapped, but her words were lost beneath Daisuke's desperate, wheezing gasps for breath.

"You killed them, damn you…" Daisuke rasped, rolling onto his hands and knees as he coughed and spit up blood. "If you can do all this, they were no threat to you!"

With a snort of disgust, Touga reached down and hauled Daisuke none too gently to his feet.

"You should be grateful," he warned his voice little more than feral growl. "My wife saved your life tonight."

Daisuke turned fearful eyes to Amayami, who had turned away to stare thought into the mountains. Could she sense that his companions were fleeing? That this was no more than a feint, a distraction, so that Keiji and his men could escape this doomed expedition?

"His life is mine, Touga. I won't forgive you for taking it."

When Daisuke paled, Touga smiled, suddenly filled with appreciation. When it suited her, Amayami could strike fear in the hearts of other with the tone of her voice or simple turn of phrase. Still, he could not help but be trouble by how cold and distant she seemed. It reminded him of the frustrating first weeks of their marriage.

Touga nodded, hiding his worry beneath a passive expression. "Go to the main house, Daisuke. Tell whoever greets you that I sent you, and then have Cho look at your throat. Amayami's poison is virulent for several hours."

Daisuke had never heard the word "virulent," but he could guess what it meant. When Touga took a step towards him, he retreated the same distance. "What are you going to do to her?" he stammered, resisting the urge to touch the wound at her throat. "I heard you threaten to kill her!"

"Is that why you jumped out at me?" Amayami snorted, but only to hide the bitterness in her voice. "Typical."

Daisuke looked sheepish and tried to swallow around the swelling in his throat. Absurdly, he mourned the fact that his voice would never be the same. "I only tried to help—"

"I don't need your help," Amayami snapped, giving both men her back. "Go to the main house. After your wounds have been tended and you've had a meal, we will discuss why you're in this territory."

Touga frowned, watching as Daisuke gave a resigned bob of his head, and turned back towards the manor. When had the reigns of power fallen to Amayami's hands?

"Maya," he began once he was certain Daisuke was out of earshot. "What do you plan on doing with that brat?"

Amayami held her hand out, allowing the rain to wash the blood from her palms. "Leave me alone."

"You're tired of killing," Touga offered, rubbing his face, the side of his head. He felt a headache coming on. "So am I! It's why I invaded your father's territory. It's why I've been at war for so long!" He growled, gritting his teeth in frustration. "At least pretend to listen to me!"

"I watched my mother die." She turned, lips trembling, and curled her fingers against her palms. "Father, everyone, they thought that I was too young to remember, so I pretended that I didn't."

Touga felt his stomach pitched forward and landed somewhere beneath him. He was confused, baffled, but mostly he was simply angry. Not at Amayami or even her web-convoluted truths, but at himself and all the assumptions he had ever made about her.

"You told me she took her own life." He cursed, wishing it had sounded less like an accusation. "And now you tell me she died in front of you."

Amayami stared at him, her eyes sinking and depthless, as if all light had fallen away from her. "She told me she was sorry. Just like…"

Taro had said he was sorry before he died, chanting over and over again. The phrase had sounded like a litany.

"…And then she… It hurt, so bad I couldn't move, and then…" She sucked in a shuddering breath and calmed, finding her sense of self again. "But I can tell by your expression that's not what you want to hear."

"Amayami…" Before he could stop himself, Touga pulled her into his arms, holding her high against his body. She felt so small and fragile in his arms, so young and helpless, as she buried her face in the hollow of his throat. He began whispering endearments to her, things his mother had once crooned to him.

As the pieces came together, and then fell apart once more, all he could think of was that perhaps he had wronged his mother, had hated her for the wrong reasons. Yumeni was a traitor and a whore, but she would never harm him. _Never._ "Tell me. Make me understand."

"You're trembling," Amayami whispered, her lips brushing the hard line of his jaw. "We should go inside, before Cho comes out to yell at us for standing out in the rain…"

Touga caged her face with his hands, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Your mother hurt you." But the truth was uglier than that; he knew it the moment the words left his mouth.

"We fell under siege while Father was away defending the border. Mother had hidden me in the catacombs beneath the castle, but the invaders knew exactly where to go. It was like they had for me. I remember them calling my name."

"You are your father's heir," Touga said, hating the reasonable tone of his voice. "Your death would have granted your father's enemies a considerable tactical advantage."

Sadly, she mimicked him, cupping his face in her hands. Her breath dusted his face as she bent to kiss the wrinkle between his eyebrows. "Spoken like a true conqueror, but no, it was nothing as nice as that."

She sighed and pulled away, and he let her go, holding her until her fingertips slipped away from his.

"Mother fought them off, but there was so many of them. Hundreds and they were all…" White haired and blue eyed with skin the color of freshly fallen snow. The very same features she had inherited from her mother. She took a breath and gathered herself, more thinking aloud than truly speaking.

"We hid in a storeroom, waiting, hoping that Father would return in time. But they were coming for us. I could smell them as they cut through the rocks. There was sulfur and poison. Then the walls started to fall in on us, and I could hear them shouting. "That's when Mother picked me up and…" Amayami pressed her palm to her chest, just inches left of her heart. "She was too careful, too worried that I would suffer, and so…"

"Fuck…" Without sparing a moment, he pulled her into his arms and slid his hand up her spine to cup the back of her head. He held her against him, feeling her tears scald his throat. "Hush, enough, you don't have to say anymore."

"I watched her cut her own throat," she whimpered, the words seemed torn from her. "Why did I have to watch her die?"

Touga had no answers.


End file.
